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T OHN ABERCROMBIE, M.D. Oxon. & Edin. 



FELLOW OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS OF EDINBURGH ; MEMBER OF T 

ROYAL ACADEMY OF MEDICINE OF FRANCE ; AND FIRST PHYSICIAN 

TO HER MAJESTY IN SCOTLAND. 






THIRTEENTH EDITION. 



V- 



UNIFORM WITH 

'THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS." 






This Bay is Published, 8th Edition, Fcap. Svo, 4s., 

THE 

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELIN 

BY JOHN ABERCROMBIE, M.D. 



LC Control Number 



tmp96 028883 



PREFACE. 



\ n presenting to the public another Edition of 

m volume, the Author feels himself called upon 

in to express, in the strongest terms, his sense 

he manner in which it has been received, and 

he notice which has been bestowed upon it by 

I I se whose approbation he highly values. A 
judice appears to have long existed against 
;a^hvsical inquiries, from an impression that 

Wfr relate only to scholastic sophistries, incapable 
)eing applied to any useful purpose, and leading 
10 results which are entitled to the character 
truth. The object of the Author has been to 
dd all such unprofitable speculations, and to 

v fcrict his investigations by those boundaries 
• hin which the science can be shown to rest 
a 2 



upon authentic facts, and to yield conclusions 
of the utmost practical importance. If he has 
thus succeeded in giving to the science of mind 
some degree of popular interest, the intention 
is accomplished which he had in view, when he 
ventured on a course of inquiry, which has been 
enriched by the talents, and adorned by the 
eloquence, of some of the most eminent individuals 
that have devoted themselves to any department 
of human knowledge. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introduction . • . . . • • • 1 

Preliminary Observations on the General Objects 
of Science. 

Uniformity of the Relations of Bodies .... 5 

Origin of our Idea of Causation 6 

Our Idea of the Relation of Cause and Effect, in reference to 
any two Events, entirely distinct from our Intuitive Im- 
pression of Causation 6 

Of Physical, Efficient, and Final Causes 8 

The Object of Science is to trace the uniform Relations of 
things . . . . . . . . . .10 

The Object of Art is to apply our Knowledge of these Rela- 
tions, for producing particular Results . . ..10 

Distinction of Sciences and Arts, according to the particular 

substances or relations which are their immediate Objects 10 
Division of Sciences into Certain and Uncertain . .13 

Grounds of Uncertainty in a Science 14 

Illustrations of the Uncertain Sciences from Medicine and 

Political Economy 15 

Imperfection of all Science, from the limited nature of the 
human faculties 17 



CONTENTS. 



PART I. 

OF THE NATURE AND EXTENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF MIND. 

PAGK 

Our Knowledge of Mind limited entirely to Facts . .18 

Ideal Theory of the Old Philosophy 19 

Of Materialism 21 

Grounds for considering Materialism as not only 
unfounded, but as, in its nature, opposed to the 
First Principles of Philosophical Inquiry . . . 22 
Grounds for believing that the Thinking Principle is, in its 
Essence, independent of the Body, and will survive it .23 
This belief is entirely independent of our Speculations 
respecting the Immateriality of the Thinking Principle, 
and rests on a species of evidence altogether different 28 



PART II. 



OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF FACTS, RELATING 
BOTH TO MATTER AND MIND. 



SECTION I. 

SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 

Of the Primary and Secondary Properties of Matter 
Knowledge of the Properties of Matter by the Senses . 
Of our Knowledge of Distance and Magnitude 
Apparent Improvement of some Senses after Loss of others 
Of our Knowledge of the Nature of Perception. 



PAGE 

Remarkable Influence of Attention . . - . .43 

Habits of Attention and Inattention 44 

Of False Perceptions 46 



SECTION II. 

CONSCIOUSNESS AND REFLECTION. 

Of the Knowledge which we derive from Consciousness and 

Reflection ......... 51 

1 . The Knowledge of our Mental Processes . . 51 

2. Compound Notions, — as Time, Cause, Motion . 52 

3. First Truths, or Intuitive Articles of Belief . 52 



SECTION III. 

TESTIMONY. 

Rules by which we estimate the Credibility of Testimony . 54 
Confidence in Testimony in regard to Statements at Variance 

with our Personal Observation or Experience . .56 

Objections which have been made to the Reception of such 

Statements on the Evidence of Testimony . . . . 57 
Fallacy of these Objections, — and Grounds of our Confidence 

in Testimony 58 

Distinction between Events which are Marvellous and those 

which are Miraculous 61 

Moral Probability of Miracles . . *. . . .63 
Miracles not a Violation of the established Order of Nature, 

but referable to an Agency altogether New and Peculiar . 65 
Grounds on which we estimate the Credibility of Testimony 

in regard to Unusual or Miraculous Events . . . 67 



PART III. 



}'.h;k 
OF THE INTELLECTUAL OPERATIONS. 71 



SECTION I. 

MEMORY. 

Attention 

Association 

1. Natural or Philosophical Association 

2. Local or Incidental Association 

3. Arbitrary or Fictitious Association 

Artificial Memory 

Important Application of the Principle of Arbi- 
trary Association in Commemorative Rites . 92 
Conception, or the Memory of Perceptions . . .94 

Of the Culture and Improvement of Attention, Reflection, 

and Memory 97 

Of the Influence of Disease upon Attention and Memory . 103 
Of Extensive Cerebral Disease without Sensible Derangement 

of the Mental Functions 119 

Influence of the Facts connected with this Subject 
in showing the Independent Existence of the 
Thinking Principle 130 



SECTION II. 

ABSTRACTION. 



Nature and Applications of Abstraction . . .121 

Disputes of the Nominalists and Realists . . . . ]-'.) 



SECTION III. 

IMAGINATION. 



PAGE 



Nature and Applications of Imagination . . .125 

Various Kinds of Artificial Combination to which it is 

applicable 126 

Importance of a proper Application of it in the Formation 

of Character . . . . • • • .127 

Effects of Fictitious Narrative 128 

Effects of an Ill-regulated Imagination .... 129 



SECTION IV. 

OF REASON OR JUDGMENT. 

Analysis of the Mental Process of which Reason consists . 131 
Applications of Reason in the Investigations of Science, the 

Affairs of Common Life, and the Formation of Opinions . 134 

Man's Responsibility for his Belief . " . . . 140 

Farther Division of the Subject. — Brief Outline of the System 

of Dr. Brown 141 



§ 1. — OF THE USE OF REASON IN THE INVESTIGATION OF TRUTH. 

Of First Truths, or Intuitive Articles of Belief as the Foun- 
dation of all Reasoning . . . . , . .143 

1. A Belief in our own Existence, and of Mind as 

something distinct from the Body . . . 143 

2. A Confidence in the Information furnished by our 

Senses ........ 144 

3. A Confidence in our Mental Operations . . . 145 

4. A Belief of our Personal Identity . . .145 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

5. A Conviction that every Event must have a Cause 145 

6. A Confidence in the Uniformity of Nature . .146 

Uniformity of Physical Relations . .146 

Uniformity of Moral Relations . . .149 

Application to the question of Liberty and 

Necessity 151 

Of the Nature and Importance of First Truths, and Sophisms 

connected with attempts to reason against them . .158 
Laws of Investigation in any Department of Knowledge . 163 

1. Of Collecting Facts 165 

2. Of Tracing the Relation of Cause and Effect . 166 

3. Of Deducing General Principles . . ..166 
Of Fallacies in Investigation 168 

Fallacies in regard to Facts 168 

False Induction . . . . . .168 

False Reasoning 169 

Of the Nature of Reasoning 169 

Of the Syllogism and its uses 170 

Of the Cautions in examining a Process of Reasoning or 

Investigation 173 

Distinction between a Process of Reasoning and a Process of 

Investigation 176 

Of Fallacies in Reasoning . . . . . . .178 

Of Mathematical Reasoning 187 

Difference between the sound Exercise of Judgment and the 

Art of Disputation 190 

Of the Culture and Regulation of the Judgment . . . 1 92 

Influence of Attention 192 

Prejudice 193 

Passion, or State of Moral Feelings . 1 94 

Importance of a well-regulated Judgment . . . 1 95 



§ 2. — OF THE USE OF REASON IN CORRECTING THE IMPRESSIONS OF 
THE MIND IN REGARD TO EXTERNAL THINGS. 

PAGE 

Nature and Effects of this Exercise of Reason . . .196 
Peculiar Conditions connected with the Suspension of it . .196 



I. DREAMING. 

Peculiar Condition of the Mind in Dreaming . 199 
Origin of the various Classes of Dreams . .199 

1. Recent Events 199 

2. Old Associations excited by Bodily Sen- 

sations 201 

3. Old Associations recalled by a Process of 

the Mind itself 204 

4. Mental Emotions embodied into Dreams 211 
Dreams consist chiefly of Real Objects of Con- 
ception 219 

Operations of an Intellectual Character in Dreams 22] 

II. SOMNAMBULISM. 

Various Degrees of this Affection . . . 225 
Remarkable Condition commonly called Double 

Consciousness 230 

III. INSANITY. 

Peculiar Condition of the Mind constituting 

Insanity 239 

Various Modifications of it, from Eccentricity to 

Mania . 240 

Great Activity of the Mental Powers in many 

Cases 24 3 



Remarkable Loss of Recent Impressions, and 

sudden Revival of them on Recovery . .246 
Hallucination confined to a Single Point .247 

Probable Origin of the Peculiar Hallucinations in 

different cases of Insanity . . . . 248 

1. Propensities of Character . . . .249 

2. Old Associations 249 

3. Old Fictions of the Imagination . .249 

4. Bodily Feelings 250 

5. Undefined Impression of the New and Pecu- 

liar Condition of the Mental Powers . 260 

Melancholia — Propensity to Suicide . . 251 
Origin and Causes of Insanity .... 254 
Cautions in deciding on Slight or Suspected Cases 257 
Liability of the Insane to Punishment . . . 259 
Moral Treatment of Insanity . . . .201 
Of Idiocy — Difference between it and Insanity . 266 
Cretinism 268 

IV. SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS. 

Various Forms and Sources of them . . . 274 



PAKT IV. 

APPLICATION OF THE RULES OF PHILOSOPHICAL INVESTIGATION 
TO MEDICAL SCIENCE. 



PAGE 

Uncertainty of Medicine 290 

Sources of this Uncertainty 291 

1. Difficulty of tracing Effects to their true Causes . 294 

2. Intervention of New Causes, which elude our Ob- 

servation 295 

3. Difficulty in extending our Knowledge to New 

Cases, as we must generally act on Analogy, not 

on Experience 295 



SECTION I. 

ACQUISITION AND RECEPTION OF FACTS. 297 

Rules to be observed, and Sources of Error to be avoided, in 
the Reception of Facts . . . . . . . 298 



SECTION II. 

ARRANGING, COMBINING, AND SEPARATING FACTS. 

Rules to be observed in this Process 303 

Evils arising from Unsound Combinations . . . . 304 
Of the Effects produced on Medical Science by a Zeal for 
Nosology 304 



SECTION III. 

PAGE 
TRACING THE RELATION OF CAUSE AND EFFECT. 305 

Importance and Difficulty of this Process . . . . 306 
Sources of Fallacy in conducting it .... 307 
Of the Division of Causes into Predisposing, Exciting, and 
Proximate 314 



SECTION IV. 

DEDUCING GENERAL FACTS OR GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 

Nature of Generalising 315 

Difference between Generalising and Classification . ..31 S 
Rules of Generalising, or of the Induction of General 

Principles 319 

1. That the Principle be a Fact 319 

2. That it be true of all the Individuals . . . 320 
Legitimate use of Hypothesis 322 

RULES TO BE OBSERVED BY THOSE WHO WOULD CONTRIBUTE 

TO THE IMPROVEMENT OF MEDICAL SCIENCE. 325 



PART V. 

VIEW OF THE QUALITIES AND ACQUIREMENTS WHICH CONSTITUTE 
A WELL-REGULATED MIND. 

PAGE 

1. Habit of Attention 329 

2. Regulation of the Succession of Thoughts . . . 330 

3. Activity of Mind 33] 

4. Habits of Association and Reflection . . . . 332 

5. Proper Selection of Objects of Pursuit . . . 332 

6. Government of the Imagination . .. . . . 333 

7. Culture and Regulation of the Judgment . . .334 

Observing and Inventive Genius . . . . 338 

8. Right Condition of the Moral Feelings . . . 340 



INTRODUCTION. 



The study of the phenomena of mind presents a 
subject of intense interest, not to the moral philosopher 
only, but to every one who has in view the cultivation 
of his own mental powers, or the proper application of 
them to the investigation of truth in any department 
of knowledge. During the prevalence of that system 
which has been called the Metaphysics of the Schools 
this important inquiry was obscured by speculations of 
the most frivolous nature. It is in modern times only 
that it has assumed a real value and a practical im- 
portance, under the researches of those eminent men 
who have cultivated the philosophy of mind on the 
principles which are acted upon in physical science, 
namely, a careful observation of facts, and conclusions 
drawn from these by the most cautious induction. The 
chief hinderance to the cultivation of the science on 
these principles, arises from the difficulty of procuring 

B 



a INTRODUCTION. 

the facts. For the only field in which the mental 
philosopher can pursue his researches with perfect 
confidence, is his own mind. In his observations on 
the minds of other men, he is obliged to judge of the 
internal operations by external phenomena ; and in this 
manner a degree of uncertainty attends his investiga- 
tions, which does not occur in physical science. From 
this source, also, has probably arisen much of that dif- 
ference of opinion which we meet with in regard to the 
mental powers : For, each inquirer having drawn his 
observations chiefly from one mind, namely, his own, it 
was scarcely to be expected that there should not be 
some diversity, or that facts derived in this manner 
should possess the character of being universal. 

The means by which this difficulty can be removed 
must consist in an extensive collection of facts, illus- 
trating the phenomena of mind in various individuals, 
and under a variety of circumstances ; and there are 
several points of view in which the subject is peculiarly 
adapted to the medical observer. Mental manifestations 
are greatly modified by the condition of those bodily 
organs by which the mind holds intercourse with external 
things, especially the brain. It becomes therefore a 
matter of the greatest interest, to ascertain the manner 
in which the manifestations of mind are affected by 
diseases of these organs, as well as to observe their 



INTRODUCTION. 3 

condition in that remarkable class of affections, commonly 
called diseases of the mind. Besides, in the affections 
which are referable to both these classes, we often meet 
with manifestations of the most interesting kind, and 
such as are calculated to illustrate, in a very striking 
manner, important points in the philosophy of the 
mental powers. It is thus in the power of the observing 
physician to contribute valuable facts to the science of 
mind; and it is almost unnecessary to add, that the 
study may be turned to purposes of immediate import- 
ance to his own inquiries. He does not need to be 
reminded how much the mind acts upon the body, — 
that mental emotions often prove sources of disease, or 
causes by which his remedies are modified or counter- 
acted, — and that, on the other hand, a remedy may 
often be introduced by the mind, capable of composing 
tumults of the corporeal functions, which cannot be 
tranquillised by physical aid. 

From the deep interest which the philosophy of mind 
thus presents to the medical inquirer, I have been 
induced to attempt a slight outline of this extensive 
subject. In doing so, I do not profess to offer anything 
new or original. My object is to present to the younger 
part of the profession some leading facts, which may 
serve to direct their further inquiries on a subject of 
great and general interest. 

b 2 

I 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

This slight outline of the functions of mind will be 
followed by an attempt to trace the rules which ought to 
guide us in applying these powers to the investigation of 
truth, in any department of knowledge. The practical 
application of the subject will lead to a general view of 
the laws or principles of philosophical inquiry and 
inductive science, and will then be directed in a more 
particular manner to the purposes of medical investiga- 
tion. This is attempted in the hope that the principles 
which it is meant to convey, may be of use in giving 
precision to medical investigations, by illustrating those 
rules of sound induction, which are acted upon in other 
departments of science. 



$reltmmatg (©torbatums 

ON 

THE GENERAL NATURE AND OBJECTS OF 
SCIENCE. 



By the will of the Almighty Creator, all things in 
nature have been placed in certain relations to each 
other, which are fixed and uniform. In other words, 
they have been endowed with capacities of acting, and 
capabilities of being acted upon, according to certain 
uniform laws; so that their actions take place in the 
same manner in every instance in which the same 
bodies are brought together under similar circumstances. 
We have a conviction, which appears to be original and 
instinctive, of the general uniformity of these relations ; 
and in this consists our confidence in the regularity of 
all the operations of nature. But the powers or prin- 
ciples on which the relations depend are entirely hidden 
from us in our present state of being. The province of 
human knowledge is to observe the facts, and to trace 
what their relations or sequences are. This is to be 
accomplished only by a careful and extensive observation 
of the facts as they pass before us, and by carefully 
distinguishing their true or uniform relations, from con- 
nexions which are only incidental and temporary. 

In our first observation of any particular series of 
facts or events, we find a certain number of them placed 
together in a state of contiguity or apparent connexion. 
But we are not entitled from this to assume the 



6 GENERAL OBJECTS OF SCIENCE. 

connexion to be anything more than incidental juxta- 
position. When in the farther progress of observation, 
we find the same events occurring a certain number of 
times, in the same relations or sequences to each other, 
we suspect that their connexion is not merely that of 
incidental contiguity. We begin to believe that there 
exists among them such a relation as leads us, when we 
meet with some of these events, to expect that certain 
others are to follow. Hence is excited our idea of power 
in reference to these events, or of the relation of cause 
and effect. This relation, however, according to the 
utmost extent of our knowledge of it in any individual 
instance, is founded entirely upon the fact of certain 
events uniformly following one another. But, when we 
have found, by sufficient observation, the particular 
events which do thus follow one another, we conclude 
that there is a connexion, whatever may be the nature 
of it, in consequence of which the sequence which we 
have observed will continue to recur in the same fixed 
and uniform manner. In other words, we conclude with 
confidence, that, when we observe the first of two such 
events, the second will follow; and that, when we 
observe the second, the first has preceded it. The first 
we call cause, the second effect. Thus our general 
confidence in the uniformity of the true relations or 
sequences of events is an original or instinctive principle, 
and not the result of experience ; but it is by experience 
that we ascertain what the individual sequences are 
which observe this uniformity; or, in other words, learn 
to distinguish connexions which consist of incidental 
contiguity, from those which constitute true and uniform 
relations. 

The natural tendency of the mind appears indeed to 
be, to infer causation from every succession of pheno- 
mena, and to expect uniformity in every sequence. It 
is from experience we learn that this impression is not 
to be relied on in regard to individual sequences, but 



ORIGIN OF THE IDEA OF CAUSATION. 7 

requires to be corrected by observation. The result of 
our farther experience then is, to ascertain what those 
sequences are -which are uniform, and which, conse- 
quently, we may consider as connected in the manner of 
causation. We are thus first taught by experience the 
caution which is necessary in considering events as con- 
nected in the manner of cause and effect; and learn not 
to assume this relation, till, by farther experience, we 
have ascertained that the sequence is uniform. This 
caution, however, has no reference to our instinctive 
impression of causation, or our absolute conviction that 
every event must have an adequate cause ; it only relates 
to our fixing the arrangement of individual antecedents, 
or, in other words, to our determining what individual 
events we are warranted in considering as the true ante- 
cedents, or causes, of certain other events. This, accord- 
ingly, can in many cases be accomplished only by long 
and extensive observation; while, in others, a single 
instance may be sufficient to produce an absolute con- 
viction of what is the true antecedent. A child, who 
has been only once burnt, may dread the fire as certainly 
as if the accident had happened a hundred times ; and 
there are many other instances in which the conviction 
may be produced in the same rapid manner. The 
natural tendency of the mind, in fact, is not only to 
infer the connexion, but in many cases to carry it farther 
than the truth. If, for instance, we suppose a man, who, 
for the first time in his life, has seen gunpowder explode 
upon a match being applied to it,- — he would probably 
have an immediate conviction that a similar explosion 
would take place again in similar circumstances. But 
he would perhaps go farther than this : he would proba- 
bly expect a similar explosion when be applied a match 
to other black powders, with the nature of which he was 
unacquainted, such as powdered charcoal. It is by expe- 
rience that this erroneous expectation would be corrected, 
and that he would learn the precise instances in which 



O GENERAL OBJECTS OF SCIENCE. 

the particular result takes place. But it is also by expe- 
rience or observation that he learns the former, though 
the conviction was produced more immediately ; for there 
is nothing in the characters of gunpowder and charcoal 
from which any man could pronounce, by reasoning a 
priori, that the one would explode with violence when a 
match was applied to it, and the other remain entirely 
unchanged. 

Thus, our general impression of causation is not the 
result of experience, but an original and intuitive princi- 
ple of belief; that is, our absolute conviction, that every 
event must have an adequate cause. This is, in fact, 
that great and fundamental truth, by which from the 
properties of a known effect, we infer the powers and 
qualities of an unknown cause. It is in this manner, for 
example, that from the works of nature we infer the 
existence and attributes of the Almighty Creator. But, 
in judging of the connexion between any two individual 
events in that order of things which he has established, 
our idea of causation is derived from experience alone. 
For, in regard to any two such events, our idea of causa- 
tion or of power amounts to nothing more than our 
knowledge of the fact, that the one is invariably the 
antecedent of the other. Of the mysterious agency on 
which the connexion depends, we know nothing, and 
never can know anything in our present state of being. 
"We know that the application of a match always sets 
fire to gunpowder ; and we say, that it has the power of 
doing so, or that it is the cause of the explosion ; but 
we have not the least conception why the application 
of fire produces combustion in an inflammable substance, 
— these expressions, therefore, amount to nothing more 
than a statement of the fact, that the result is universal. 

When we • speak, therefore, of physical causes, in 
regard to any of the phenomena of nature, we mean 
nothing more than the fact of a certain uniform con- 
nexion which has been observed between events. Of 



CAUSATION. y 

efficient causes, or the manner in which the result takes 
place, we know nothing. In this sense, indeed, we may- 
be said not to know the cause of anything, even of 
events which at first sight appear the most simple and 
obvious. Thus the communication of motion from one 
body to another by impulse appears a very simple 
phenomenon, — but how little idea have we of the cause 
of it. We say the bodies touch each other, and so the 
motion is communicated. But, in the first place, we 
cannot say why a body in motion, coming in contact with 
one at rest, should put the latter in motion ; and farther, 
we know that they do not come in contact. We may 
consider it, indeed, as ascertained, and there is no such 
thing as the actual contact of bodies under these circum- 
stances; and, therefore, the fact which appears so simple 
comes to be as unaccountable as any phenomenon in 
nature. What, again, appears more intelligible than an 
unsupported body falling to the ground ? Yet, what is 
more inexplicable, than that one mass of matter should 
thus act upon another, at any distance, and even though 
a vacuum be interposed between them ? The same ob- 
servation will be seen to apply to all the facts which are 
most familiar to us. Why, for example, one medicine 
acts upon the stomach, another on the bowels, a third 
on the kidneys, a fourth on the skin, we have not the 
smallest conception ; we know only the uniformity of 
the facts. 

It is of importance to keep in mind the distinction 
now referred to between physical and efficient causes, as 
the former only are the proper objects of philosophical 
inquiry. The term final cause, again, has been applied 
to a subject entirely different; namely, to the appear- 
ances of unity of design in the phenomena of nature, and 
the manner in which means are adapted to particular 
ends. The subject is one of great and extensive import- 
ance, but it appears desirable that the name were altered, 
though it is sanctioned by high authority ; for, when 
viewed in connexion with the sense in which the word 



10 GENERAL OBJECTS OF SCIENCE. 

cause is employed in modern science, it expresses a 
meaning remarkably different. The investigation to 
which it refers is also of a distinct nature, though one of 
the highest interest. It leads us chiefly to the induc- 
tions of natural religion respecting a great and intelligent 
First Cause ; but it may also be directed to the discovery 
of truth in regard to the phenomena of nature. One of 
the most remarkable examples of this last application of 
it is to be found in the manner in which Harvey was led 
to the discovery of the circulation of the blood, by ob- 
serving the valves in the veins, and contemplating the 
uses to which that peculiar structure might be adapted. 

The object of all science is to ascertain these established 
relations of things, or the tendency of certain events to 
be uniformly followed by certain other events ; in other 
words, the aptitude of certain bodies to produce, or to be 
followed by, certain changes in other bodies in particular 
circumstances. The object of art is to avail ourselves 
of the knowledge thus acquired, by bringing bodies into 
such circumstances as are calculated to lead to those 
actions upon each other of which we have ascertained 
them to be capable. Art, therefore, or the production 
of certain results by the action of bodies upon each other, 
must be founded upon science, or a knowledge of their 
fixed and uniform relations and tendencies. This prin- 
ciple applies to all sciences, and to the arts or practical 
rules which are founded upon them; and the various 
sciences differ only in the particular substances or events 
which are their more immediate objects. 

In the physical sciences, we investigate the relations 
of material substances, and their actions upon each other, 
either of a mechanical or chemical nature. On the 
relations thus ascertained are founded the mechanical 
and chemical arts, in which we produce certain results, 
by bringing bodies into such circumstances as are cal- 
culated to give rise to their peculiar actions. But mental 
phenomena have also their relations, which are likewise 



DISTINCTION OF SCIENCES AND AKTS. 11 

fixed and uniform; though it may be more difficult to 
ascertain the truth in regard to them, than in the relations 
of material things. 

The relations or sequences of mental phenomena are 
to be considered in two points of view, namely, relations 
to each other, and relations to external things. In regard 
to both, it seems necessary to divide the phenomena 
themselves into three classes. 

1. Simple intellect, or those powers by which we per- 
ceive, remember, and combine facts or events, and com- 
pare them with each other : such as perception, memory, 
imagination, and judgment. 

2. Passive emotions, or those by which the mind is 
affected by certain pleasurable or painful feelings, which 
are, or may be, confined entirely to the individual who 
is the subject of them. 

3. Active emotions, or those which tend directly to 
influence the conduct of men, either as moral and 
responsible beings, or as members of society. 

In all these classes, mental phenomena have certain 
relations to each other and to external things, the inves- 
tigation of which is the object of particular branches of 
science; and these lead to certain acts or practical rules 
which are founded upon them. 

Intellectual science investigates the laws and rela- 
tions of the processes of simple intellect, as perception, 
memory, imagination, and judgment ; and the proper 
cultivation and regulation of these is the object of the 
practical art of intellectual education. 

The passive emotions may be influenced or excited in 
two ways ; — through our relations to other sentient and 
intelligent beings, — and by material or inanimate things. 
To the former head are referable many of the tenderest 
and most interesting feelings of our nature, as love, hope, 
joy, and sorrow. To the latter belong those emotions 
which come under the subject of taste, or the tendencies 



12 GENERAL OBJECTS OF SCIENCE. 

of certain combinations of material things to excite 
emotions of a pleasurable or painful kind, — as our im- 
pressions of the sublime, the beautiful, the terrible, or 
the ludicrous. The practical rules or processes, connected 
with the science of the passive emotions, arrange them- 
selves into two classes, corresponding to the two divisions 
now mentioned. To the former belong the regulation of 
the emotions, and all those rules of conduct not exactly 
referable to the higher subject of morals which bear an 
extensive influence on the ties of friendship, and the 
relations of social and domestic intercourse. To the 
latter belong chiefly those processes which come under 
the head of the fine arts ; — as the arts of the painter, — 
the sculptor, — the architect, — the musician ; perhaps we 
may add, the poet and the dramatist. 

The active emotions, or those which influence human 
conduct, are referable to two classes ; those which affect 
men individually as moral and responsible agents, — and 
those which affect them as united in large bodies consti- 
tuting civil society. The cultivation of the emotions of 
the former class, and the investigation of the motives and 
principles by which they are influenced, belong to the 
high subjects of morals and religion. The investigation 
and control of emotions of the latter class come under the 
science of politics ; and the practical art, founded upon 
it, relates to those measures by which the statesman 
attempts to control and regulate the conduct of masses of 
mankind united as members of a great civil community. 

In medical science, the objects of our researches are 
chiefly the relations between external things and the 
living powers of animal bodies, — and the relations of 
these powers to each other ; — more particularly in regard 
to the tendencies of external things to produce certain 
changes upon living bodies, either as causes of di~ 
or as remedies. The practical art founded upon this 
science leads to the consideration of the means by which 
we may avail ourselves of this knowledge, by producing, 
in the one case, actions upon the body which we wish to 



UNIFOEMITY OF KELATIONS. 13 

produce, and in the other, by counteracting or avoiding 
actions which we wish to prevent. 

In all these sciences, and the practical arts which are 
founded upon them, the general principles are the same ; 
namely, a careful observation of the natural and uniform 
relations or tendencies of bodies towards each other; and 
a bringing of these tendencies into operation for the pro- 
duction of certain results. All art, therefore, must be 
founded upon science, or a correct knowledge of these 
relations ; and all science must consist of such a careful 
observation of facts in regard to the relations, as shall 
enable us confidently to pronounce upon those which 
are fixed and uniform. He who follows certain arts or 
practical rules, without a knowledge of the science on 
which they are founded, is the mere artisan or empiric ; 
he cannot advance beyond the precise rules which are 
given him, or provide for new occurrences and unfore- 
seen difficulties. In regard to science, again, when the 
relations are assumed hastily, or without a sufficiently 
extensive observation of facts, the process constitutes 
false science, or false induction ; and, when practical 
rules are founded upon such conclusions, they lead to 
error and disappointment in the result which is expected. 

The views which have now been referred to lead us to 
principles, by which the sciences are distinguished into 
those which are certain, and those which are, in a greater 
or less degree, uncertain. The certainty of a science 
depends upon the facility and correctness with which we 
ascertain the true relations of things, or trace effects to 
their true causes, and causes to their true effects, — and 
calculate upon the actions which arise out of these rela- 
tions taking place with perfect uniformity. This certainty 
we easily attain in the purely physical sciences, or those 
in which we have to deal only with inanimate matter. 
For, in our investigation of the relations of material 
bodies, whether mechanical or chemical, we contrive 
experiments, in which, by placing the bodies in a variety 



14 GENERAL OBJECTS OF SCIENCE. 

of circumstances towards each other, and excluding all 
extraneous influence, we come to determine their ten- 
dencies with perfect certainty. Having done so, we 
rely with confidence on these tendencies continuing to 
be uniform ; and should we, in any instance, be dis- 
appointed of the result which we wish to produce, we 
are able, at once, to detect the nature of some incidental 
cause by which the result has been prevented, and to 
obviate the effect of its interference. The consequence 
of this accurate knowledge of their relations is, that we 
acquire a power over material things ; but this power is 
entirely limited to a certain control and direction of their 
natural relations ; and we cannot change these relations 
in the smallest particular. Our power is of course also 
limited to those objects which are within the reach of 
our immediate influence ; but with respect to those 
which are beyond this influence, as the heavenly bodies, 
the result of our knowledge appears in a manner not 
less striking, in the minute accuracy with which we 
are enabled to foretel their movements, even at vnv 
distant periods. I need only mention the correct D98S 
with which the astronomer calculates eclipses, and the 
appearance of comets. 

With these characters of certainty in the purely phy- 
sical scieuces, two sources of uncertainty are contrasted 
in those branches of science in which we have to deal 
with mental operations, or with the powers of living 
bodies. The first of these depends upon the circum- 
stance, that, in investigating the relations and tenden- 
cies in these cases, we are generally obliged to trust 
to observation alone, as the phenomena happen to be 
presented to us, and cannot confirm or correct these 
observations by direct experiment. And as the visible 
connexions, in which the phenomena occur to us, are 
often very different from their true relations, it is in 
many cases extremely difficult to ascertain the true 
relations ; that is, to refer effects to their true causes, 
and to trace causes to their true effects. Hence just 



CEBTAIN AND UNCERTAIN SCIENCES. 15 

conclusions are arrived at slowly, and after a long course 
of occasional observations ; and we may be obliged to 
go on for a long time without acquiring any conclusions 
which we feel to be worthy of confidence. In these 
sciences, therefore, there is great temptation to grasp at 
premature inductions ; and when such have been brought 
forward with confidence, there is often difficulty in ex- 
posing their fallacy; for in such a case it may happen, 
that as long a course of observation is required for 
exposing the false conclusion, as for ascertaining the 
true. In physical science, on the other hand, a single 
experiment may often overturn the most plausible 
hypothesis, or may establish one which was proposed 
in conjecture. 

The second source of uncertainty in this class of 
sciences consists in the fact, that, even after we have 
i scertained the true relations of things, we may be dis- 
appointed of the results which we wish to produce, when 
we bring their tendencies into operation. This arises 
from the interposition of other causes, by which the true 
tendencies are modified or counteracted, and the opera- 
tion of which we are not able either to calculate upon 
or to control. The new causes, which operate in this 
manner, are chiefly certain powers in living animal 
bodies, and the wills, feelings, and propensities of masses 
of human beings, which we have not the means of re- 
ducing to any fixed or uniform laws. As examples of 
the uncertain sciences, therefore, we may mention medi- 
cine and political economy ; and their uncertainty is 
referable to the same sources, namely, the difficulty of 
ascertaining the true relations of things, or of tracing 
effects to their true causes, and causes to their true 
effects;— and the intervention of new causes which elude 
our observation, while they interfere with the natural 
tendencies of things, and defeat our attempts to produce 
certain results by bringing these into action. The sciem 
tific physician well knows the difficulty of ascertaining 
the true relations of those things, which are the proper 



16 GENERAL OBJECTS OF SCIENCE. 

objects of bis attention, and tbe uncertainty which attends 
all bis efforts to produce particular results. A person, 
for example, affected with a disease,, recovers under tbe 
use of a particular remedy. A second is affected with 
tbe same disease, and uses tbis remedy without any 
benefit ; while a third recovers under a very different 
remedy, or without any treatment at all. And, even in 
those cases in which he has distinctly ascertained true 
relations, new causes intervene and disappoint his endea- 
vours to produce results by means of these relations. 
He knows, for example, a disease which would certainly 
be relieved by the full operation of diuretics ; — and he 
knows various substances which have unquestionably 
diuretic virtues. But in a particular instance, he may 
fail entirely in relieving the disease by the most assi- 
duous use of these remedies ; — for their real and true 
tendencies are interrupted by certain other causes in the 
constitution itself, which entirely elude his observation, 
and are in no degree under his control. 

It is unnecessary to point out the similarity of these 
facts to the uncertainty experienced by the statesman, in 
his attempts to influence the interests, the propensities, 
and the actions of masses of mankind ; or to show how 
often measures, which have been planned with every 
effort of human wisdom, fail of the results which they 
were intended to produce, or are followed by consequences 
remarkably different. Nothing indeed can show in a 
more striking manner, the uncertainty which attaches to 
this science, than the different aspects in which the same 
measure is often viewed by different men distinguished 
for political wisdom and talent. I abstain from alluding 
to particular examples, but those accustomed to attend 
to public affairs will find little difficulty in fixing upon 
remarkable instances, in which measures have been 
recommended by wise and able men, as calculated to 
lead to important benefits ; while others of no inferior 
name for talent and wisdom have, with equal confidence, 
predicted from them consequences altogether different. 



LIMITED NATUKE OF THE HUMAN FACULTIES. 17 

Such are the difficulties of tracing effects to their true 
causes, and causes to their true effects, when we have to 
deal, not with material substances simply, but with the 
powers of living bodies, or with the wills, the interests, 
and propensities of human beings. 

One other reflection arises out of the view which has 
been given of this important subject. The object of all 
science, whether it refer to matter or to mind, is simply 
to ascertain facts, and to trace their relations to each 
other. The powers which regulate these relations are 
entirely hidden from us in our present imperfect state of 
being ; and by grasping at principles which are beyond 
our reach, we leave that path of inquiry which alone is 
adapted to our limited faculties, and involve ourselves in 
error, perplexity, and darkness. It is humbling to the 
pride of human reason, but is not the less true, that the 
highest acquirement ever made by the most exalted 
genius of man has been only to trace a part, and a very 
small part, of that order which the Deity has established 
in his works. When we endeavour to pry into the 
causes of this order, we perceive the operation of powers 
which lie far beyond the reach of our limited faculties. 
They who have made the highest advances in true science 
will be the first to confess how limited these faculties 
are, and how small a part they can comprehend of the 
ways of the Almighty Creator : they will be the first to 
acknowledge that the highest acquirement of human 
wisdom is to advance to that line which is its legitimate 
boundary ; and there, contemplating the wondrous field 
which lies beyond it, to bend in humble adoration before 
a wisdom which it cannot fathom, and a power which it 
cannot comprehend. 



INQUIRIES 
CONCERNING THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS, etc. 



PART I. 



OF THE NATURE AND EXTENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE 

OF MIND. 

The mind is that part of our being which thinks and 
wills, — remembers and reasons ; we know nothing of it 
except from these functions. By means of the corporeal 
senses, it holds intercourse with the things of the external 
world, and receives impressions from them. But of this 
connexion also we know nothing but the facts : when we 
attempt to speculate upon its nature and cause we wander 
at once from the path of philosophical inquiry, into 
conjectures which are as far beyond the proper sphere 
as they are beyond the reach of the human faculties. 
The object of true science on such a subject, ther. 
is simply to investigate the facts, or the relations of 
phenomena, respecting the operations of mind itself, and 
the intercourse which it carries on with the things of the 
external world. 

This important rule in the philosophy of mind baa 
been fully recognised in very modern times only, so that 
the science, as a faithful interpretation of nature, may be 
considered as of recent origin. Before the period now 
referred to, the investigation was encumbered by the 
most fruitless speculations respecting the essence of 



SPECULATIONS OF THE SCHOOLS. 19 

inind, and other discussions which led to no discovery of 
truth. It was contended, for example, that the mind 
cannot act where it is not present, and that consequently 
it cannot be said to perceive external objects themselves, 
but only their images, forms, or sensible species, which 
were said to be conveyed through the senses, and 
represented to the mind in the same manner in which 
images are formed in a camera obscura. By the internal 
functions of mind, these sensible species were then 
supposed to be refined into phantasms, the objects of 
memory and imagination ; and these, after undergoing a 
farther process, became intelligible species, the objects 
of pure intellect. By a very natural application of this 
doctrine, it was maintained by Bishop Berkeley and the 
philosophers of his school, that, as the mind can perceive 
nothing but its own impressions or images, we can 
derive no evidence from our senses of the existence of 
the external world ; and Mr. Hume carried the argument 
a little farther, by maintaining that we have as little 
proof of the existence of mind, and that nothing exists 
in the universe except impressions and ideas. Of another 
sect of philosophers who arose out of the same system, 
each individual professed to believe his own existence, 
but would not admit the existence of any other being ; 
hence they received the appropriate name of Egoists. 

The various eminent individuals by whom the fallacy 
of these speculations was exposed, combated them upon 
the principle that this doctrine of ideas is entirely a 
fiction of philosophers ; and that a confidence in the 
information conveyed to us by our senses must be 
considered as a first truth, or a fundamental law of our 
nature, susceptible of no explanation, and admitting of 
no other evidence than that which is derived from the 
universal conviction of mankind. Nor does it, to common 
minds, appear a slight indication of the validity of this 
mode of reasoning, that the philosophers who supported 
that theory do not appear to have acted upon their own 
c 2 



20 SPECULATIONS OF THE SCHOOLS. 

system, but, in everything which concerned their personal 
accommodation or personal safety, showed the same 
confidence in the evidence of their senses, as other men. 

The deductions made from the ideal theory by 1>« rkeley 
and Hume seem to have been applications of it which 
its former advocates had not contemplated. But it is a 
singular fact, as stated by Dr. Reid, that nearly all 
philosophers, from Plato to Mr. Hume, agreed in 
maintaining that the mind does not perceive external 
things themselves, but only their ideas, images, or 
species. This doctrine was founded upon the maxim, 
that mind cannot act where it is not present ; and we 
find one writer only, who, admitting the maxim, called 
in question the application of it so far as to maintain 
that the mind, in perceiving external tilings, leaves the 
body, and comes into contact with the objects of its 
perception. 

Such speculations ought to be entirely banished from 
the science of mind, as not only useless and unprofitable, 
but as referring to things entirely beyond the reach of 
the human faculties, and therefore contrary to the first 
principles of philosophical investigation. To the same 
class we are to refer all speculations in regard to the 
essence of mind, the manner in which thought is pro- 
duced, and the means by which the intercourse is carried 
on between the mind and external objects. These re- 
markable functions were at one time explained by an 
imaginary essence called the animal spirits, which were 
supposed to be in constant motion, performing the office 
of messengers between the brain and the organs of sense. 
By another class of philosophers, of no very ancient date, 
thinking was ascribed to vibrations in the particles of 
the brain. The communication of perceptions from the 
senses to the mind has been accounted for, in the same 
manner, by the motions of the nervous fluid, by vibrations 
of the nerves, or by a subtle essence resembling electri- 
city or galvanism. The mind, again, has been compared 



EXTENT OF OUE KNOWLEDGE OF MIND. 21 

to a camera obscura, — to a mirror, — and to a storehouse. 
In opposition, however, to all such hypotheses, which 
are equally incapable either of proof or of refutation, our 
duty is to keep steadily in view that the objects of true 
science are facts alone, and the relations of these facts 
to each other. The mind can be compared to nothing 
in nature ; it has been endowed by its Creator with a 
power of perceiving external things ; but the manner in 
which it does so is entirely beyond our comprehension. 
All attempts, therefore, to explain or illustrate its ope- 
rations by a reference to anything else, can be considered 
only as vain and futile. They are endeavours to establish 
a resemblance where there is not the vestige of an ana- 
logy ; and consequently they can lead to no useful result. 
It is only by a rigid adherence to the opposite course of 
investigation, that we can expect to make any progress 
in true knowledge, or to impart to our inquiries in any 
department of science the characters either of truth or 
utility. 

The ideal theory, with all the doctrines founded upon 
it, may now be considered as gone by. But certain 
speculations are still occasionally brought out by writers 
of a particular order, which are referable to the same 
class ; namely, hypotheses which are to be treated not 
merely as unsound, but as being, by their very nature, 
directly opposed to the first principles of philosophical 
inquiry. Among these, the most prominent is the 
doctrine of materialism, of which it may be advisable to 
take a slight view in the commencement of this essay. 
On the principles which have been referred to, the fol- 
lowing considerations may be submitted as bearing upon 
this subject. 

The term Matter is a name which we apply to a cer- 
tain combination of properties, or to certain substances 
which are solid, extended, and divisible, and which are 
known to us only by these properties. The term Mind, 
in the same manner, is a name which we apply to a 



22 MATERIALISM. 

certain combination of functions, or to a certain power 
which we feel within, which thinks, and wills, and 
reasons, and is known to us only by these functions. 
The former we know only by our senses, the latter only 
by our consciousness. In regard to their essence or occult 
qualities, we know quite as little about matter as we do 
about mind ; and in as far as our utmost conception of 
them extends, we have no ground for believing that they 
have anything in common. The true object of phi- 
losophy is simply to investigate the facts in regard to 
both ; and materialism is not to be viewed only as un- 
sound reasoning, but as a logical absurdity, and a total 
misconception of the first principles of philosophical in- 
quiry. Does the materialist tell us that the principle 
which thinks is material, or the result of organisation, 
we have only to ask him what light he expects to throw 
upon the subject by such an assertion. For the prin- 
ciple which thinks is known to us only by thinking ; and 
the substances which are solid and extended are known 
to us only by their solidity and extension. When we 
say of the former that it is immaterial, we simply express 
the fact that it is known to us by properties altogether 
distinct from the properties to which we have given the 
name of matter, and, as far as we know, has nothing 
in common with them. Beyond these properties, we 
know as little about matter as we do about mind ; so 
that materialism is scarcely less extravagant than would 
be the attempt to explain any phenomenon, by referring 
it to some other altogether distinct and dissimilar; to 
say, for example, that colour is a modification of sound, 
or gravity a species of fermentation. The assertion, in- 
deed, would be fully as plausible, and calculated to throw 
as much light upon the subject, were a person, anxious 
to explain the nature of matter, to tell us that it is 
the result of a particular manifestation of mind. Some- 
thing analogous to this, in fact, seems to be the founda- 
tion of the theory of Boscovich, who conceives all bodies 



EXTENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF MIND. 23 

to consist of unextended atoms or mathematical points 
endowed with a certain power of repulsion, and conse- 
quently makes the essence of matter to consist merely in 
the property of resistance. We hare, in truth, the same 
kind of evidence for the existence of mind, that we have 
for the existence of matter, that is, from its properties ; 
and of the two, the former appears to be the least liable 
to deception. "Of all the truths we know," says Mr. 
Stewart, " the existence of mind is the most certain. 
Even the system of Berkeley concerning the non- 
existence of matter is far more conceivable than that 
nothing but matter exists in the universe." " Men," 
says Baxter, " were formerly credulous and easy, 
perhaps ; now they are affectedly nice, with the air of 
more philosophy and knowledge ; but our moderns forget 
that he, who believes that dead matter can produce the 
effects of life and reason, is a hundred times more cre- 
dulous than the most thorough-paced believer that ever 
existed." 

A similar mode of reasoning may be applied to the 
modification of materialism more prevalent in modern 
times, by which mind is considered as a result of or- 
ganisation, or, in other words, a function of the brain ; 
and upon which has been founded the conclusion, that 
like our bodily senses it will cease to be, when the bodily 
frame is dissolved. The brain, it is true, is the centre 
of that influence on which depends sensation and motion. 
There is a remarkable connexion between this organ and 
the manifestations of mind ; and by various diseases of 
the brain these manifestations are often modified, im- 
paired, or suspended. We shall afterwards see that 
these results are very far from being uniform ; but, even 
if they were uniform, the facts would warrant no such 
conclusion respecting the nature of mind ; for they 
accord equally with the supposition that the brain is the 
organ of communication between the mind and the ex- 
ternal world. When the materialist advances a single 



24 MATERIALISM. 

step beyond this, he plunges at once into conclusions 
which are entirely gratuitous and unwarranted. We rest 
nothing more upon this argument, than that these con- 
clusions are unwarranted; but we might go farther than 
this, and contend that the presumption is clearly on the 
other side, when we consider the broad and obvious dis- 
tinction which exists between the peculiar phenomena of 
mind, and those functions winch are exercised through 
the means of bodily organisation. They do not admit 
of being brought into comparison, and have nothing in 
common. The most exquisite of our bodily senses are 
entirely dependent for jtheir exercise upon impressions 
from external things. J We see not without the presence 
both of light and a body reflecting it ; and if we could 
suppose light to be annihilated, though the eye were to 
retain its perfect condition, sight would be extinguished. 
But mind owns no such dependence on external things, 
except in the origin of its knowledge in regard to them. 
When this knowledge has once been acquired, it is re- 
tained and recalled at pleasure ; and mind exercises its 
various functions without any dependence upon impres- 
sions from the external world. I That which has long 
ceased to exist is still distinctly before it ; or is recalled, 
after having been long forgotten, in a manner even still 
more wonderful ; and scenes, deeds, or beings, which 
never existed, are called up in long and harmonious suc- 
cession, invested with all the characters of truth, and 
all the vividness of present existence. The mind re- 
members, conceives, combines, and reasons ; it loves, 
and fears, and hopes, in the total absence of any im- 
pression from without, that can influence, in the smallest 
degree, these emotions ; and we have the fullest convic- 
tion that it would continue to exercise the same functions 
in undiminished activity, though all material things were 
at once annihilated. 

This argument, indeed, may be considered as only 
negative, but this is all that the subject admits of. For 



EXTENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF MIND. 25 

when we endeavour to speculate directly on the essence 
of mind, we are immediately lost in perplexity, in conse- 
quence of our total ignorance of the subject, and the use 
of terms borrowed from analogies with material things. 
Hence the unsatisfactory nature of every physiological 
or metaphysical argument respecting the essence of 
mind, arising entirely from the attempt to reason the 
subject in a manner of which it is not susceptible. It 
admits not of any ordinary process of logic, for the facts 
on which it rests are the objects of consciousness only ; 
and the argument must consist in an appeal to the con- 
sciousness of every man, that he feels a power within 
totally distinct from any function of the body. What 
other conception thatt this can he form of that power by 
which he recalls the past, and provides for the future ; 
by which he ranges uncontrolled from world to world, 
and from system to system ; surveys the works of all- 
creating power, and rises to the contemplation of the 
eternal cause? To what function of matter shall he 
liken that principle by which he loves and fears, and joys 
and sorrows : by which he is elevated with hope, excited 
by enthusiasm, or sunk in the horrors of despair ? These 
changes also he feels, in many instances, to be equally 
independent of impressions from without, and of the 
(jpndition of his bodily frame. In the most peaceful 
state of every corporeal function, passion, remorse, or 
anguish may range within ; and while the body is racked 
by the most frightful diseases, the mind may repose in 
tranquillity and hope. He is taught by physiology, that 
every part of his body is in a constant state of change, 
and that, within a certain period, every particle of it is 
renewed. But, amid these changes, he feels that the 
being, whom he calls himself, remains essentially the 
same. In particular, his remembrance of the occur- 
rences of his early days' he feels to be totally inconsistent 
with the idea of an impression made upon a material 
organ, unless he has recourse to the absurdity of 



26 MATEJRIALISM. 

supposing that one series of particles, as they departed, 
transferred the picture to those which came to occupy 
their room. 

If the being, then, which we call mind or soul, be, to 
the utmost extent of our knowledge, thus dissimilar to, 
and distinct from, anything that we know to be a result 
of bodily organisation, what reason have we to believe 
that it should be affected by any change in the arrange- 
ment of material organs, except in so far as relates to its 
intercourse with this external world. The effects of that 
change, which we call the death of an animal body, are 
nothing more than a change in the arrangement of its 
constituent elements ; for it can be demonstrated, on the 
strictest principles of chemistry, that not one particle of 
these elements ceases to exist. We have, in fact, no 
conception of annihilation ; and our whole experience is 
opposed to the belief that one atom which ever existed 
has ceased to exist. There is, therefore, as Dr. Brown 
has well remarked, in the very decay of the body, an 
analogy which would seem to indicate the continued 
existence of the thinking principle, since that which we 
term decay is itself only another name for continued 
existence. To conceive, then, that anything mental 
ceases to exist after death, when we know that every- 
thing corporeal continues to exist, is a gratuitous assump- 
tion, contrary to every rule of philosophical inquiry, and 
in direct opposition, not only to all the facts relating to 
mind itself, but even to the analogy which is furnished 
by the dissolution of the bodily frame. 

To this mode of reasoning it has been objected, that 
it would go to establish an immaterial principle in the 
lower animals, which in them exhibits many of the phe- 
nomena of mind. I have only to answer, — be it so. 
There are in the lower animals many of the phenomena 
of mind ; and, with regard to these, we also contend 
that they are entirely distinct from anything we know 
of the properties of matter, — which is all that we mean, 



EXTENT OF OUB KNOWLEDGE OF MIND. 27 

or can mean, by being immaterial. There are other 
principles superadded to material things, of the nature of 
which we are equally ignorant : — such, for example, as 
the principle of vegetable life, and that of animal life. 
To say that these are properties of matter, is merely 
arguing about a term ; — for what we mean by matter, is 
something which is solid, extended, and divisible. That 
these properties are, in certain individuals, combined 
with simple or vegetable life, — in others, with animal 
life, that is, life and the powers of sensation and motion, 
— and in others with animal life, and certain of those 
properties which we call mind, — are facts which are all 
equally beyond our comprehension. For anything we 
know, they may all be imperishable principles ; and for 
anything we know, matter itself may be imperishable. 
The simple truth is, that we know nothing on the sub- 
ject ; and while, on the one hand, we have no title to 
assume an essence to be mortal, because it possesses 
only the properties of matter; neither, on the other 
hand, have we any right to infer an essence to be immor- 
tal, because it possesses properties different from those 
of matter. We talk, indeed, about matter, and we talk 
about mind ; we speculate concerning materiality and 
immateriality, until we argue ourselves into a kind of 
belief, that we really understand something of the sub- 
ject. The truth is, that we understand nothing. Matter 
and mind are known to us by certain properties : — these 
properties are quite distinct from each other; but in 
regard to both, it is entirely out of the reach of our 
faculties to advance a single step beyond the facts which 
are before us. Whether in their substratum or ultimate 
essence they are the same, or whether they are different, 
we know not, and never can know in our present state 
of being. Let us, then, be satisfied with the facts, when 
our utmost faculties can carry us no farther ; let us 
cease to push our feeble speculations, when our duty is 
only to wonder and adore. 



28 MATERIALISM. 

These considerations, while they are directly opposed 
to the crude conclusions of the materialist, also serve to 
show us how much the subject is removed beyond our 
limited faculties ; and it is not on such speculations, 
therefore, that we rest the evidence for a future state of 
being. We know nothing of the nature or the essence of 
mind; but whatever may be its essence, and whatever 
may be the nature and extent of that mysterious con- 
nexion which the Deity has established between it and 
our bodily organisation, these points have no reference 
whatever to the great question of its future existence. 
The principle seems to have been too much lost sight of 
in the discussion of this subject, that our speculations 
respecting the immateriality of the rational human soul 
have no influence on our belief of its immortality. This 
momentous truth rests on a species of evidence altogether 
different, which addresses itself to the moral constitution 
of man. It is found in those principles of his nature by 
which he feels upon his spirit the awe of a God, and 
looks forward to the future with anxiety or with hope ; — 
by which he knows to distinguish truth from falsehood and 
evil from good, and has forced upon him the conviction, 
that he is a moral and responsible being. This is the 
power of conscience, that monitor within, which raises its 
voice in the breast of every man, a witness for his Crea- 
tor. He who resigns himself to its guidance, and he who 
repels its warnings, are both compelled to acknowledge 
its power ; and, whether the good man rejoices in the 
prospect of immortality, or the victim of remorse withers 
beneath an influence unseen by human eye, and shrinks 
from the anticipation of a reckoning to come, each has 
forced upon him a conviction, such as argument never 
gave, that the being which is essentially himself is dis- 
tinct from any function of the body, and will survive in 
undiminished vigour when the body shall have fallen 
into decay. 

When, indeed, we take into the inquiry the high 



EXTENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF MN T D. 29 

principles of moral obligation, and the moral government 
of the Deity, this important truth is entirely independent 
of all our feeble speculations on the essence of mind. 
For, though we were to suppose, with the materialist, 
that the rational soul of man is a mere chemical combi- 
nation, which, by the dissolution of its elements, is 
dissipated to the four winds of heaven, where is the 
improbability, that the power which framed the wondrous 
compound may collect these elements again, and combine 
them anew for the great purposes of his moral adminis- 
tration. In our speculations on such a momentous sub- 
ject, we are too apt to be influenced by our conceptions 
of the powers and properties of physical things : but 
there is a point where this principle must be abandoned, 
and where the soundest philosophy requires, that we take 
along with us a full recognisance of the power of God. 

There is thus, in the consciousness of every man, a 
deep impression of continued existence. The casuist 
may reason against it till he bewilder himself in his 
own sophistries ; but a voice within gives the lie to his 
vain speculations, and pleads with authority for a life 
which is to come. The sincere and humble inquirer 
cherishes the impression, while he seeks for farther light 
on a subject so momentous ; and he thus receives, with 
absolute conviction, the truth which beams upon him 
from the revelation of God, — that the mysterious part of 
his being, which thinks, and wills, and reasons, shall 
indeed survive the wreck of its mortal tenement, and is 
destined for immortality. 



PART II. 

OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF FACTS RELATIVE 
BOTH TO MIND AND MATTER. 

Among writers on the science of mind, there was for- 
merly much controversy in regard to the origin of our 
ideas. Some maintained that they are derived entirely 
from perception, that is, through the external senses ; 
others considered them as arising partly from perception, 
and partly from consciousness or reflection ; and some 
added a third class, which they called innate ideas, and 
which were supposed to exist in the mind itself, inde- 
pendently of, and prior to, the exercise either of percep- 
tion or reflection. This phraseology had its origin in 
the ancient theory of ideas, according to which something 
was supposed to exist, distinct both from the mind and 
the external object of its perception. This, as we have 
formerly seen, was what philosophers meant by an idea. 
It was believed to be the immediate object of the mind's 
perception, but to be only a kind of image or representa- 
tive of the object perceived. This hypothesis, which k< pi 
its place in the science of mind till a very recent period, is 
now generally admitted to have been a fiction of philoso- 
phers ; and the phraseology respecting ideas is abandoned 
by the best practical writers ; because, though the ancient 
doctrine be exploded, and the term may be used only in 
a figurative sense, it still seems to imply something 
existing in the mind, distinct from the mind itself. The 
impressions derived from external things are therefore 
to be considered as the occasions on which the various 
powers of the mind are brought into action. These 
powers themselves then become the objects of conscious- 
ness or reflection, and, by their farther exercise, we 



ORIGIN OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. 31 

acquire certain notions which arise out of the mental 
operations. This doctrine gives no encouragement to 
the scheme of materialism, for it is clear that we cannot 
remember till we are furnished with some fact to be 
remembered ; but this can never be supposed to affect 
our belief in the existence of the power of memory, 
before the fact was so furnished. If we could suppose 
the case of a man who had lived all his life in the dark, 
he certainly could not see, but we should not say that 
the admission of light imparted to him the power of 
vision ; it only furnished the circumstances which gave 
occasion to the exercise of sight. It has accordingly been 
shown by Mr. Stewart, that, though we may not be con- 
scious of our mental powers till they are called into 
action, yet this consciousness may arise from the most 
simple sensation, such as affords no evidence of the 
properties, or even of the existence of the material world. 

Through the senses, then, we acquire a knowledge of 
the facts relating to external things. The mental pro- 
cesses, thus brought into action, then become the sub- 
jects of consciousness, and we acquire a knowledge of the 
facts relating to them. By a farther exercise of these 
powers on various facts referring to both matter and 
mind, we acquire certain notions arising out of our re- 
flection upon the relations of these facts, such as our 
notions of time, motion, number, cause and effect, and 
personal identity ; and we acquire farther the impression 
of certain fundamental laws of belief, which are not 
referable to any process of reasoning, but are to be con- 
sidered as a part of our constitution, or a spontaneous 
and instinctive exercise of reason in every sound mind. 

The origin of our knowledge, then, is referable, in a 
philosophical point of view, to perception and reflection. 
But in point of fact, the knowledge which is acquired by 
an individual, through his own perception and reflection, 
is but a small part of what he possesses ; much of the 
knowledge possessed by every one is acquired through 



32 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 

the perceptions of other men. In an essay, therefore, 
which is intended to be entirely practical, I shall include 
this last department under the head of testimony. The 
division of this part of the subject will therefore be, 

1. Sensation and Perception. 

2. Consciousness and Reflection. 

3. Testimony. 



SECTION I. 

Of Sensation and Perception. 

We know nothing of perception except the fact, that 
certain impressions made upon the organs of sense con- 
vey to the mind a knowledge of the properties of external 
things. Some of the older speculations on this subject 
have already been referred to. In these the mind was 
compared to a eamera-obscura, and the transmission of 
the forms or images of things to it, from the organs of 
sense, was explained by the motion of the animal spirits 
or the nervous fluid, or by vibrations in the substance of 
the nerves. All such speculations are now dismissed 
from the investigation, being considered as attempts to 
penetrate into mysteries which are beyond the reach of 
the human faculties, and consequently not the legitimate 
objects of philosophical inquiry. 

Our first knowledge of the existence and properties of 
the material world is evidently of a complex nature. It 
seems to arise from the combined action of several senses, 
conveying to us the general notion of certain essences 
which are solid and extended, or possessed of those pro- 
perties which characterise materia] tilings. Without 
this general knowledge previously acquired, our various 
senses acting individually could convey to us no definite 
notion of the properties of external things. A smell, 
that is, a mere odour, for example, might be perceived 



SENSATION AND PEECEPTION. 33 

by us, but would convey nothing more than the sensation 
simply. It could not communicate the impression of 
this being a property of an external body, until we had 
previously acquired a knowledge of the existence of that 
body, and had come, by observation, to associate the 
sensation with the body from which it proceeds. The 
same holds true of the other senses ; and we are thus 
led, at the very first step of our inquiry, to a complicated 
process of mind, without which our mere sensations could 
convey to us no definite knowledge. 

Having thus acquired a knowledge of the existence 
and general properties of material things, we next derive 
from our various senses a knowledge of their more 
minute characters. These are generally divided into 
primary and secondary. The primary qualities of 
material things are such as are essential, and must at 
all times belong to matter ; such as solidity and extension. 
These properties necessarily convey to us a conviction 
of something existing out of the mind, and distinct from 
its own sensations. The secondary qualities, again, are 
colour, temperature, smell, taste, &c. These are not 
essential properties of matter, but qualities producing 
sensations in a sentient being ; they may or they may 
not belong to any particular body, or they may be 
attached to it at one time and not at another Hence 
they convey to us primarily no definite notion in regard 
to the existence or properties of external thiugs, except, 
as Mr. Stewart expresses it, " as the unknown cause of a 
known sensation." One of the quibbles or paradoxes of 
the scholastic philosophy, was denying the real existence 
of these secondary qualities of matter. Every one is 
familiar with the humorous account given in the Guardian 
of the attainments of a youth from college, and his 
display of them when on a visit to Lady Lizard his 
mother. " When the girls were sorting a set of knots, 
he would demonstrate to them .that all the ribbons were 
of the same colour, or rather of no colour at all. My 

D 



34 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 

Lady Lizard herself, though she was not a little pleased 
with her son's improvement, was one day almost angry 
with him : for, having accidentally burnt her fingers, as 
she was lighting the lamp for her teapot, in the midst of 
her anguish Jack laid hold of the opportunity to instruct 
her, that there is no such thing as heat in the fire." 
Such speculations, which were at one time common in 
the schools of philosophy, had their origin entirely in an 
abuse of terms. The term heat, for example, has two 
meanings which arc quite distinct from each other. It 
means a sensation produced in a sentient being, and in 
this sense, it may be said with truth, that there is no 
heat in the fire ; but it means also a quality in material 
substances capable of producing this sensation, and it is 
in this sense that we speak of heat as a property of 
matter. 

The process by which we acquire a knowledge of external 
things is usually divided into two stages, — sensation ami 
perception; the former implying the corporeal, the latter 
the mental part of it. Others apply the term perception 
to both ; and according to Dr. Brown, sensation is the 
simple impression made upon the organs of sense ; 
perception is an association formed between this impres- 
sion and an external substance which we have ascertained 
to be concerned in producing it. Our senses, by which 
this knowledge is acquired, are generally reckoned five, 
— sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch. Dr. Brown 
proposes to add our muscular frame, and apparently 
with good reason; for there seems ground for believing 
that it is by resistance to muscular action that we acquire 
the notion of solidity, and that this could not be acquired 
by touch alone. 

Our first impression of the existence and solidity <>f 
mateiial objects, then, seems to be derived from touch 
combined with muscular resistance: and at the saint 
time we acquire the knowledge of temperature, roughness 
or smoothness, &c. There has been some difieren 



SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 35 

opinion in regard to the manner in which we acquire the 
notion of extension, including figure and magnitude. It 
is evident that it cannot be acquired by touch alone ; but 
it may be acquired from touch combined with muscular 
motion, as when we move the hand over the surface of a 
body. This, however, includes also the idea of time, — 
for our notion of the extent of a surface, when the hand 
moves over it, is very much influenced by the velocity 
with which the motion is made. Hence time has been 
supposed by some to be one of our very earliest impres- 
sions, and antecedent even to the notion of extension or 
space. It is probable, however, that the notion of exten- 
sion may also be acquired in a more simple manner, 
from the combined operation of touch and vision. If this 
opinion be correct, it will follow, that our first knowledge 
of the existence and essential properties of material 
things is derived from the combined operation of sight, 
touch, and muscular action. 

With regard to all our senses, however, the truth 
seems to be, that the first notions conveyed by them are 
of a very limited and imperfect kind; and that our real 
knowledge is acquired only after considerable observation 
and experience, in the course of which, the impressions 
of one sense are corrected and assisted by those of others, 
and by a process of mind acting upon the whole. The 
primary objects of vision, for example, seem to be simply 
light or colour, and expansion. But the judgments which 
we are in the daily habit of forming upon vision are of a 
much more extensive kind, embracing also distance, 
magnitude, and what has been called tangible figure, 
such as the figure of a cube or a sphere. This last, it 
is evident, cannot be considered as a primary object oi 
vision, but as entirely the result of experience derived 
from the sense of touch ; for we never could have formed 
any conception of the figure of a cube or a sphere by 
vision alone. Distance and magnitude, also, are evidently 
not the primary objects of vision ; for persons who have 
d 2 



36 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 

been suddenly cured of congenital blindness, by the 
operation for cataract, have no conception of the distance 
or magnitude of objects ; they perceive only simple 
expansion of surface with colour. Our judgment of dis- 
tance and magnitude by vision, therefore, is an acquired 
habit, founded upon the knowledge which we have 
received, by other means, of the properties of the 
objects. Accordingly, it is familial* to every one, that 
we have no idea of the distance of an object, unless we 
have some notion of its magnitude; nor, on the other 
hand, of its magnitude, unless we have some knowledge 
of its distance. The application of this principle is also 
familiar in perspective drawing, in which the diminished 
size of known objects is made to convey the notion of 
distance. On the same principle, known objects seen 
through a telescope do not appear to be magnified, but 
to be brought nearer. In the same manner with regard 
to sounds; we have no idea of their intensity, unless we 
have some notion of their distance, and vice versa. A 
given degree of sound, for example, if we believed it t«» 
have been produced in the next room, we might conclude 
to proceed from the fall of some trifling body : but if we 
supposed it to be at the distance of several miles, we 
should immediately conclude that it proceeded from a 
tremendous explosion. 

In regard to certain small distances, however, there is 
a power of judging by sight alone ; and it appears to 
arise out of the degree of inclination which is given to the 
axis of vision in directing the two eyes to the object. 
Thus, in snuffing a candle, or carrying the finger to a 
small object within arm-length, it will be found that we 
are veiy apt to miss it, if we look with one eye only, but 
can touch it with unerring certainty when both eyes in- 
directed to it. It appears to be on the same principle 
that we enjoy, in a greater degree, the deception pro- 
duced by a painting, when we look at it with one 
especially if we look through a tube. By the former, 



SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 37 

we cut off the means of correcting the illusion by the 
direction of the axis of vision ; and by the latter, we 
remove the influence of all neighbouring objects. It is 
impossible to determine the precise distance to which we 
can extend this power of judging of distance by the 
inclination of the axis of vision, but it does not appear to 
be great; and in regard to all greater distances the 
judgment by vision is evidently an acquired habit, arising 
out of such a mental exercise as has now been referred to. 
There are some other circumstances, also the result 
of experience, by which we are greatly influenced in all 
such cases, particularly the degree of illumination of the 
objects, and the degree of distinctness of their outline 
and minute parts. Thus, in a picture, distant objects 
are represented as faintly illuminated, and with indis- 
tinctness of outline and minute parts, and vice versa. 
On this principle, objects seen through a fog, or in 
obscure light, are apt to appear much larger than they 
really are ; because, in the mental process which takes 
place in regard to them, we first assume them to be 
distant, from their imperfect outline and faint illumina- 
tion, and then, judging from this assumed distance, we 
conclude them to be of great size. On the other hand, 
objects seen in an unusually clear state of the atmo- 
sphere appear nearer than they really are, from the 
greater distinctness of their outline. In our judgment 
of distance by sight, we are greatly influenced by the eye 
resting on intermediate objects ; and hence the difficulty 
of judging of distances at sea. A striking illustration of 
the same principle is furnished by Captain Parry, in re- 
gard to objects seen across a uniform surface of snow. 
" We had frequent occasion, in our walks on shore, to 
remark the deception which takes place in estimating 
the distance and magnitude of objects, when viewed over 
an unvaried surface of snow. It was not uncommon for 
us to direct our steps towards what we took to be a large 
mass of stone, at the distance of half a mile from us, but 



38 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 

which we were able to take up in our hands after one 
minute's walk. This was more particularly the case 
when ascending the brow of a hill." Captain Parry 
adds, that this deception did not become less on account 
of the frequency with which its effects were experienced ; 
and a late writer has used this as an objection to the 
doctrine lately referred to, respecting the influence of 
experience on our judgment of distance by vision. But 
this is evidently founded on a misconception of the effect 
of experience in such cases. Captain Parry could mean 
only, that he did not acquire the power of judging of the 
distance or magnitude of unknown objects. Had he 
been approaching an object by which he had once been 
deceived, knowing it to be the same, he would not have 
been deceived a second time ; but judging from its 
known magnitude, would have inferred its distance. 
Thus the result of experience is to enable us to judge 
of the distance of an object of known magnitude, or of 
the magnitude of an object at a known distance ; but in 
regard to objects of which both the distance and magni- 
tude are unknown, it teaches us only not to trust to the 
indications of vision. 

In our judgment by vision of the magnitude of objects, 
again, we are much influenced by comparison with other 
objects, the magnitude of which is supposed to be known. 
I remember once having occasion to pass along Ladgate 
Hill, when the great door of St. Paul's was open, and 
several persons were standing in it. They appeared to 
be very little children ; but on coming up to them were 
found to be full-grown persons. In the mental process 
which here took place, the door had been assumed as a 
known magnitude, and the other objects judged of by it. 
Had I attended to the door being much larger than any 
door that one is in the habit of seeing, the mind would 
have made allowance for the apparent size of the per- 
sons ; and, on the other hand, had these been known to 
be full-grown persons, a judgment would have been 



SENSATION AND PEECEPTION. 39 

formed of the size of the door. On the same principle, 
travellers visiting the pyramids of Egypt have repeatedly 
remarked, how greatly the notion of their magnitude is 
increased, by a number of large animals, as camels, being 
assembled at their base. 

There is something exceedingly remarkable in the 
manner, in which loss or diminution of one sense is fol- 
lowed by increase of the intensity of others, or rather, 
perhaps, by an increased attention to the indications of 
other senses. Blind persons acquire a wonderful deli- 
cacy of touch ; in some cases, it is said, to the extent of 
distinguishing colours. Mr. Saunderson, the blind ma- 
thematician, could distinguish by his hand, in a series of 
Roman medals, the true from the counterfeit, with a 
more unerring discrimination than the eye of a professed 
virtuoso ; and, when he was present at the astronomical 
observations in the garden of his college, he was accus- 
tomed to perceive every cloud which passed over the 
sun. This remarkable power, which has sometimes been 
referred to an increased intensity of particular senses, in 
many cases evidently resolves itself into an increased 
habit of attention to the indications of all those senses 
which the individual retains. Two instances have been 
related to me of blind men who were much esteemed as 
judges of horses. One of these, in giving his opinion of 
a horse, declared him to be blind, though this had 
escaped the observation of several persons who had the 
use of their eyes, and who were with some difficulty con- 
vinced of it. Being asked to give an account of the 
principle on which he had decided, he said it was by the 
sound of the horse's step in walking, which implied a 
peculiar and unusual caution in his manner of putting 
down his feet. The other individual, in similar circum- 
stances, pronounced a horse to be blind of one eye, 
though this had also escaped the observation of those 
concerned. When he was asked to explain the fact on 
which he formed his judgment, he said, he felt the one 



40 SENSATION AND PEKCEPTION. 

eye to be colder than the other. It is related of the late 
Dr. Mo) r se, the well-known blind philosopher, that lie 
could distinguish a black dress on his friends by its 
smell ; and there seems to be good evidence that blind 
persons have acquired the power of distinguishing colours 
by the touch. In a case of this kind, mentioned by Mr. 
Boyle, the individual stated that black imparted to his 
sense oft touch the greatest degree of asperity, and blue 
the least. Professor Upham, of the United States, men- 
tions of a blind girl in Hartford Asylum, that, when the 
baskets of linen are weekly brought from the laundress, 
she selects her own articles without hesitation, howi r< r 
widely they may be dispersed among the mass. Dr. 
Rush relates of two blind young men, brothers, of the city 
of Philadelphia, that they knew when they approached 
a post in walking across a street, by a peculiar sound 
which the ground under their feet emitted in the neigh- 
bourhood of the post ; and that they could tell the names 
of a number of tame pigeons, with which they amused 
themselves in a little garden, by only hearing them fly- 
over their heads. I have known several instances of 
persons affected with that extreme degree of deafness, 
which occurs in the deaf and dumb, who had a peculiar 
susceptibility to particular kinds of sounds, depending 
apparently upon an impression communicated to their 
organs of touch or simple sensation. They could tell, 
for instance, the approach of a carriage in the street 
without seeing it, before it was taken notice of by persona 
who had the use of all their senses. An analogous fad 
is observed in the habit acquired by the deaf and dumb 
of understanding what is said to them by watching the 
motion of the lips of the speaker. Examples still more 
wonderful are on record, but certainly require confirma- 
tion. A story, for instance, has been mentioned, in some 
of the medical journals, of a gentleman in France, who 
lost every sense, except the feeling of one side of his 
face ; yet it is said that his family acquired a method of 



SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 41 

holding communication with him, by tracing characters 
upon the part which retained its sensation. 

Much ingenuity has been bestowed upon attempts to 
explain how, with two eyes, we see only one object ; and 
why that object is seen erect, when we know that the 
image on the retina is inverted. All that need be said 
upon the subject, and all that can properly be said, 
appears to be, that such is the constitution of our nervous 
system. It is on the same principle, that by the sense 
of touch, in which may be concerned a thousand or ten 
thousand distinct points of contact, we receive the im- 
pression of only one body ; or, what perhaps may appear 
a more strictly analogous case, we receive the impression 
of but one body, though we grasp the substance with two 
hands, or with ten distinct fingers. For the healthy per- 
ception in both these cases, however, a certain arrange- 
ment is required, which we may call the natural harmony 
of the nervous system ; and, when this harmony is dis- 
turbed, the result is remarkably altered. Thus, squinting 
produces the vision of a double image, because the images 
fall upon what we may call the unharmonising points of 
the retina ; and the same principle may be illustrated, in 
a very curious manner, by a simple experiment with the 
sense of touch. If a small round body, such as a pea, 
be laid upon the palm of the one hand, and rolled about 
between the first and second fingers of the other, in their 
natural position, one pea only is felt ; but if the fingers 
are crossed, so that the pea is rolled between the oppo- 
site surfaces of the two fingers, a most distinct impres- 
sion of two peas is conveyed. A very unusual affection 
has also been communicated to me, being an example of 
double hearing. It occurred during fever, and was par- 
ticularly remarked in regard to the striking of a clock ; 
every stroke was heard repeated. 

Of the whole of the remarkable process of sensation 
and perception we know nothing but the facts, — that 
certain impressions made upon the organs of sense are 



42 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 

followed by certain perceptions in the mind ; and that 
this takes place, in some way, through the medium of 
the brain and nervous system. We are in the habit of 
saying, that the impressions are conveyed to the brain ; 
but, even in this, we probably advance a step beyond 
what is warranted. We know that the nerves derive 
their influence from their connexion with the brain, or 
as forming along with it one great medium of sensation ; 
but we do not know, whether impressions made upon the 
nervous fabric connected with the organs of sense, are 
conveyed to the brain ; or whether the mind perceives 
them directly, as they are made upon the organs of sense. 
The whole subject is one of those mysteries which are 
placed above our reach, and in which we cannot advance 
a single step beyond the knowledge of the facta. Any 
attempt to speculate upon it is therefore to be considered 
as contrary to the first principles of philosophical inquiry. 
We must simply receive the facts as of that class which 
we cannot account for in the smallest degree ; and the 
evidence which we derive from our senses, of the exist- 
ence and properties of the things of the material world, 
is to be recognised as one of those fundamental laws of 
belief, which admit of no other proof than that which is 
found in the universal conviction of mankind. 

Before concluding the subject of perception, it remains 
to be noticed, that a certain voluntary effort is required 
for the full exercise of it ; or, at least, for that degree of 
perception which leaves an impression capable of being 
retained. It is familiar to every one, that when the 
mind is closely occupied, numerous objects may 
before our eyes, and circumstances be talked of in our 
hearing, of which we do not retain the slightest recollec- 
tion ; and this is often in such a degree as implies, not 
a want of memory only, but an actual want of the per- 
ception of the objects. We cannot doubt, however, that 
there was the sensation of them ; that is, the usual im- 
pression made upon the eye in the one case, and the ear 



SENSATION AND PEKCEPTION. 43 

in the other. What is wanting is a certain effort of the 
mind itself, without which sensation is not necessarily 
followed by perception ; — this is what we call Attention. 
It is a state or act of the mind which is exercised by 
different individuals in very different degrees. It is 
much influenced by habit ; and though it may not often 
be wanting in such a degree as to prevent the perception 
of objects, it is often deficient in a manner which prevents 
the recollection of them, and consequently has an exten- 
sive influence upon the intellectual character. 

The effect of attention is illustrated by various mental 
phenomena of daily occurrence. If we are placed in such, 
a situation that the eye commands an extensive land- 
scape, presenting a great variety of objects, or the wall 
of an apartment covered with pictures, we have the 
power of fixing the mind upon one object in such, a 
manner that all the rest become to us nearly as if they 
did not exist. Yet we know that they are actually seen, 
as far as the mere sense of vision is concerned ; that is, 
images of all of them are formed upon the retina ; but 
they are not objects of attention, or of that peculiar 
voluntary effort of mind which is necessary for the full 
perception of them. In the same manner, a practised 
musician can, in the midst of a musical performance, 
direct his attention to one part, such as the bass, — can 
continue this for such a time as he pleases, and then 
again enjoy the general harmony of the whole. On the 
same principle, the mind may be so intensely fixed upon 
something within itself, as an object of conception or 
memory, or a process of reasoning, as to have no Ml 
perception of present external impressions. We shall 
afterwards have occasion to refer to a state of mind in 
which this exists to such a degree, that objects of con- 
ception or memory are believed to have a real and 
present existence ; and in which this erroneous impres- 
sion is not corrected by impressions from external 
things ; — this occurs in insanity. 



44 INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 

Attention is very much influenced by habit, and con- 
nected with this subject there are some facts of great 
interest. There is a remarkable law of the system by 
which actions, at first requiring much attention, are, after 
frequent repetition, performed with a much less degree 
of it, or without the mind being conscious of any effort. 
This is exemplified in various processes of daily occur- 
rence, as reading and writing, but most remarkably in 
music. Musical performance at first requires the closest 
attention, but the effort becomes constantly less, until it 
is often not perceived at all ; and a lady may be seen 
running over a piece of music on the piano, and at the 
same time talking on another subject. A young lady, 
mentioned by Dr. Darwin, executed a long and v. iry 
difficult piece of music, with the utmost precision, under 
the eye of her master ; but seemed agitated during the 
execution of it, and when she had concluded, burst into 
tears. It turned out that her attention had, during the 
whole time, been intensely occupied with the agonies of 
a favourite canary bird, which at last dropt dead in its 
cage. We see the same principle exemplified in the 
rapidity with which an expert arithmetician can run up 
a long column of figures without being conscious of 
the individual combinations. It is illustrated in an- 
other manner by the feats of jugglers, the deception 
produced by which depends upon their performing a 
certain number of motions with such rapidity, that the 
attention of the spectators does not follow all the 
combinations. 

In teaching such arts as music or arithmetic, this 
principle is also illustrated; for the most expert arith- 
metician or musical performer is not necessarily, and 
perhaps not generally, the best teacher of the art ; but 
he who, with a competent knowledge of it, directs his 
attention to the individual minute combinations through 
which it is necessary for the learner to advance. 

In processes more purely intellectual, we find the 



SENSATION AND PEBCEPTION. 45 

influence of habit brought under our view in a similar 
manner, particularly in following the steps of a process 
of reasoning. A person little accustomed to such a 
process advances step by step, with minute attention to 
each as he proceeds ; while another perceives at once 
the result, with little consciousness of the steps by which 
he arrived at it. For this reason, also, it frequently 
happens that, in certain departments of science, the 
profound philosopher makes a bad teacher. He proceeds 
too rapidly for his audience, and without sufficient atten- 
tion to the intermediate steps by which it is necessary 
for them to advance ; and they may derive much more 
instruction from an inferior man, whose mental process 
on the subject approaches more nearly to that which, in 
the first instance, must be theirs. We remark the same 
difference in public speaking and in writing; and we 
talk of a speaker or a writer who is easily followed, and 
another who is followed with difficulty. The former 
retards the series of his thoughts, so as to bring dis- 
tinctly before his hearers or his readers every step in the 
mental process. The latter advances without sufficient 
attention to this, and consequently can be followed by 
those only, who are sufficiently acquainted with the sub- 
ject to fill up the intermediate steps, or not to require 
them. 

There is a class of intellectual habits directly the 
reverse of those now referred to ; namely, habits of inat- 
tention, by which the mind, long unaccustomed to have 
the attention steadily directed to any important object, 
becomes frivolous and absent, or lost amid its own waking 
dreams. A mind in this condition becomes incapable of 
following a train of reasoning, and even of observing 
facts with accuracy, and tracing their relations. Hence 
nothing i*s more opposed to the cultivation of intellectual 
character ; and when such a person attempts to reason, 
or to follow out a course of investigation, he falls into 
slight and partial views, unsound deductions and frivolous 



46 FALSE PERCEPTIONS. 

arguments. This state of mind, therefore, ought to be 
carefully guarded against in the young : as, when it 
is once established, it can be removed only by a long 
and laborious effort, and after a certain period of life is 
probably irremediable. 

In rude and savage life, remarkable examples occur, 
of the effect of habits of minute attention to those cir- 
cumstances to which the mind is intensely directed, by 
their relation to the safety or advantage .of the observer. 
The American hunter finds his way in the trackless 
forests by attention to minute appearances in the trees, 
which indicate to him the points of the compass. He 
traces the progress of his enemies or his friends by the 
marks of their footsteps ; and judges of their numbers, 
their baitings, their employments, by circumstances 
which would entirely escape the observation of persons 
unaccustomed to a mode of life requiring such exercises 
of attention. Numerous examples of this kind are men- 
tioned by travellers, particularly among the original 
natives of America. 



OF FALSE PERCEPTIONS. 

Before leaving this subject, it is necessary to refer to 
some remarkable facts respecting perceptions taking 
place, without the presence of any external body cor- 
responding with them. These are called false percep- 
tions, and they are usually referred to two classes ; — 
those arising in the organs of sense, in which the mind 
does not participate ; and those which are connected with 
hallucination of mind, or a belief of the real existence of 
the object. The former only belong to this part of the 
subject. The latter will be referred to in another part 
of our inquiry, as they do not consist of false impressions 
on the senses, but depend upon the mind mistaking its 
own conceptions for real and present existences. 

Of false perceptions, properly so called, the most 



SENSATION AND PEKCEPTION. 47 

familiar are the musccs volitantes floating before the eyes, 
and sounds in the ears resembling the ringing of bells, 
or the noise of a waterfall. Changes are also met with 
in the organs of sense giving rise to remarkable varieties 
of perception. Dr. Falconer mentions a gentleman who 
had such a morbid state of sensation that cold bodies 
felt to him as if they were intensely hot. A gentleman 
mentioned by Dr. Conolly, when recovering from measles, 
saw objects diminished to the smallest imaginable size ; 
and a patient mentioned by Baron Larry, on recovering 
from amaurosis, saw men as giants, and all objects mag- 
nified in a most remarkable manner : it is not mentioned 
how long these peculiaries continued. This last pecu- 
liarity of perception occurred also to a particular friend 
of mine in recovering from typhus fever. His own body 
appeared to him to be about ten feet high. His bed 
seemed to be seven or eight feet from the floor, so that 
he felt the greatest dread in attempting to get out of 
it; and the opening of the chimney of his apartment 
appeared as large as the arch of a bridge. A singular 
peculiarity of this case, however, was, that the persons 
about him with whom he was familiar, did not appear 
above their natural size. But the most interesting phe- 
nomena, connected with affections of this kind, are fur- 
nished by the various modifications of spectral illusions. 
These are referable to three classes. 

I. Impressions of visible objects remaining for some 
time after the eye is shut, or has been withdrawn from 
them ; generally accompanied by some remarkable 
change in the colour of the objects. Various interesting 
experiments of this kind are related by Dr. Darwin ; 
one of the most striking is the following : — "I covered a 
paper about four inches square with yellow, and with a 
pen filled with a blue colour, wrote upon the middle of 
it the word BANKS in capitals; and sitting with my 
back to the sun, fixed my eyes for a minute exactly on 



48 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 

the centre of the letter N in the word. After shutting 
. my eyes, and shading them somewhat with my hand, the 
word was distinctly seen in the spectrum, in yellow 
colours on a blue ground ; and then on opening my 
on a yellowish wall at twenty feet distance, the magnified 
name of BANKS appeared on the wall written in golden 
characters." — A friend of mine had been, one day, look- 
ing intensely at a small print of the Virghi and Child. 
and had sat bending over it for some time. On raising 
his' head, he was startled by perceiving at the further 
end of the apartment a female figure of the size of life, 
with a child in her arms. The first feeling of surprise 
having subsided, he instantly traced the source of the 
illusion, and remarked that the figure corresponded 
exactly with that which he had contemplated in the 
pri:\t, being what painters call a kit-kat figure, in which 
the lower parts of the body are not represented. The 
illusion continued distinct for about two minutes. Similar 
illusions of hearing are met with, though less frequently 
than those of vision. A gentleman, recently recovered 
from an affection of the head, in which he had been much 
reduced by bleeding, had occasion to go into a large town 
a few miles from his residence. His attention was there 
attracted by the bugle of a regiment of horse sounding a 
particular measure which is used at changing guard in 
the evening* He assured me, that this sound was, from 
that time, never out of his ears for about nine months. 
During all this period he continued in a very precarious 
state of health ; and it was only as his health became 
more confirmed, that the sound of the bugle gradually 
left him. In regard to ocular spectra, another fact of a 
very singular nature appears to have been first observ. 1 
by Sir Isaac Newton, — that when he produced a spec- 
trum of the sun by looking at it with the right eye, tin- 
left being covered, upon uncovering the left, and looking 
upon a white ground, a spectrum of the sun was 
with it also. He likewise acquired the power of recalling 



FALSE PEECEPTIONS. 49 

the spectra after they had ceased, when he went into the 
dark, and directed his mind intensely, " as when a man 
looks earnestly to see a thing which is difficult to he 
seen." By repeating these experiments frequently, such 
an effect was produced upon his eyes, " that for some 
months after," he says, " the spectrum of the sun began 
to return, as often as I began to meditate upon the 
phenomena, even though I lay in bed at midnight with 
my curtains drawn." 

II. Impressions of objects recently seen returning 
after a considerable interval. Various interesting ex- 
amples of this kind are on record. Dr. Ferriar mentions 
of himself, that, when about the age of fourteen, if he 
had been viewing any interesting object in the course of 
the day, as a romantic ruin, a fine seat, or a reviev^of 
troops, so soon as evening came, if he had occasion to go 
into a dark room, the whole scene was brought before 
him with a brilliancy equal to what it possessed in day- 
light, and remained visible for some minutes. 

III. False perceptions arising in the course of some 
bodily disorder, generally fever. A lady whom I attended 
some years ago, in a slight feverish disorder, saw dis- 
tinctly a party of ladies and gentlemen sitting round 
her bedchamber, and a servant handing something to 
them on a tray. The scene continued in a greater or 
less degree for several days, and was varied by spectacles 
of castles and churches of a very brilliant appearance, as 
if they had been built of finely-cut crystal. The whole 
was in this case entirely a visual phantasm, for there 
was no hallucination of mind. On the contrary, the 
patient had from the first a full impression that it was a 
morbid affection of vision, connected with the fever, and 
amused herself and her attendants by watching and 
describing the changes in the scenery. — A gentleman, 
who was also a patient of mine, of an irritable habit, and 

E 



50 SENSATION AND PEECEPTION. 

liable to a variety of uneasy sensations in his head, was 
sitting alone in his dining-room in the twilight, the door 
of the room being a little open. He saw distinctly a 
female figure enter, wrapped in a mantle, and the face 
concealed by a large black bonnet. She seemed to 
advance a few steps towards him, and then stop. He 
had a full conviction that the figure was an illusion of 
vision, and amused himself for some time by watching 
it ; at the same time observing that he could see through 
the figure, so as to perceive the lock of the door and 
other objects behind it. At length, when he moved his 
body a little forward, it disappeared. The appearances 
in these two cases were entirely visual illusions, and pro- 
bably consisted in the renewal of real scenes or figures, 
in a manner somewhat analogous to those in Dr. Fer- 
riar's case, though the renewal took place after a longer 
interval. When there is any degree of hallucination of 
mind, so that the phantasm is believed to have a real 
existence, the affection is entirely of a different nature, 
as will be more particularly mentioned under another 
part of our subject. 

False perceptions may be corrected by one of three 
methods ; — by the exercise of other senses ; — by a com- 
parison with the perceptions of other persons ; — and by 
an exercise of judgment. If I suspect that my eye 
deceives me, I apply the hand, with the perfect convic- 
tion of the improbability that the two senses should be 
deceived at once. If this cannot be done, I appeal to 
the impressions of some other persons, with an equally 
strong conviction, that the same sense will not be 
deceived in the same manner in several persons at once. 
Or I may do it in another way, by a reference to some 
known and fixed object. Suppose, for example, I see 
two objects, where I imagine there should be but one, 
and suspect a visual deception : I turn my eyes to some 
object which I know to be single, — such as the sun ; if 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 51 

I see the sun double, I know that there is a delusion of 
vision ; if I see the sun single, I conclude the original 
perception to be correct. These processes imply a cer- 
tain exercise of judgment; and there are other cases in 
■which, the same conviction may arise from an exercise of 
judgment alone, without any process of this kind. In 
one of the cases now referred to, for example, the correc- 
tion took place instantly, from observing that the lock of 
the door was seen as if through the figure. 



SECTION II. 

Of Consciousness and Eeflection. 

Consciousness appears to mean, simply, the act of 
attending to what is passing in the mind at the time. 
That more extensive operation to which we ought to give 
the name of B,eflection, as distinguished from simple 
consciousness, seems to be connected with a power of 
remembering past perceptions, and past mental processes, 
■ — of comparing them with present feelings, so as to 
trace between them a relation, as belonging to the same 
sentient being, — and, farther, of tracing the laws by 
which the mental processes themselves are regulated. 
It is employed also in tracing the relations and sequences 
of external things, and thus proves the source of certain 
notions expressive of these relations. It is therefore a 
compound operation of mind, including various mental 
processes, especially consciousness, memory, and the act 
of comparison or judgment. The knowledge which we 
derive from this source, whether we call it consciousness 
or reflection, is referable to three heads. 

I. A knowledge of the mental processes, and the laws 
and relations by which they are regulated; — a knowledge, 
for example, of the laws and facts relating to memory, 
e 2 



52 CONSCIOUSNESS. 

conception, imagination, and judgment. These will be 
more particularly referred to in a subsequent part of our 
inquiry. In the same manner we acquire our knowledge 
of those which have been called the active and moral 
powers, as the desires, the affections, the will, &c. 

II. Certain notions arising out of the exercise of the 
mental processes, in reference to the successions and 
relations of things ; — our notion, for example, of time, 
arising out of memory and consciousness; — our notion 
of cause, — of motion, — number, duration, extension or 
space. From simple perception we seem to acquire a 
knowledge of external things as existing only at the 
moment ; and from simple consciousness a knowledge of 
a mental impression as existing only at the moment. — 
Our notions of the succession of things, as implying time 
and motion, require the exercise of consciousness and 
memory ; and our notions of cause, and the various other 
relations of things to each other, require both memory 
and comparison. To the same head, in reference to 
another department of these faculties, belong our notions 
of truth and falsehood, — right and wrong. These result 
from a certain exercise of mind, aided by that remarkable 
principle in our constitution, which commonly receives 
the name of conscience. 

III. With this exercise of the mental functions, there 
spring up in the mind certain convictions, or intuitive 
and instinctive principles of belief. They are the im- 
mediate result of a certain exercise of the understanding. 
but are not referable to any process of induction or chain 
of reasoning, and can be considered only as an original 
and fundamental part of our constitution. This is a 
subject of great and extensive importance, and the 
articles of belief which are referable to it, are chiefly the 
following : — 

(1.) A conviction of our own existence as sentient and 



CONSCIOUSNESS. 53 

thinking beings, and of niind as something distinct from 
the functions of the body. 

(2 .) A confidence in the evidence of our senses in regard 
to the existence and properties of external things ; or a 
conviction that these have a real existence independent 
of our sensations. 

(3.) A confidence in our own mental processes ; — that 
facts, for example, which are suggested to us by our 
memoiy, really occurred. 

(4.) A belief in our personal identity, derived from the 
combined operation of consciousness and memoiy ; or a 
remembrance of past mental feelings, and a comparison 
of them with present mental feelings, as belonging to the 
same sentient being. 

(5 .) A conviction that every event must have a cause, 
and a cause adequate to the effect. 

(6.) A confidence in the uniformity of the operations 
of nature ; or that the same cause, acting in the same 
circumstances, will always be followed by the same 
effect. 

These first or intuitive principles of belief will be 
referred to in a more particular manner, when we come 
to speak of the use of reason in the investigation of 
truth. They are usually called First Truths, and will 
be seen to occupy a most important place as the founda- 
tion of all reasoning. Many ingenious but fallacious 
arguments were at one time wasted in attempts to 
establish them by processes of reasoning. These again 
were assailed by sophistical and sceptical writers, who 
easily succeeded in showing the fallacy of these argu- 
ments, and thus assumed the credit of undermining the 
authority of the truths themselves. All this species of 
sophistical warfare is now gone by ; and the most 
important era in the modern science of reasoning was 
when it was distinctly shown, that these first truths 
admit of no other evidence than the conviction which 
forces itself upon the understanding of all classes of 



54 TESTIMONY. 

men. Since that period it lias been generally allowed, 
that they admit of no proof by processes of reasoning ; 
and, on the other hand, that they are entirely unaffected 
by the arguments by which all reasoning was shown to 
be fallacious. 



SECTION III. 



Of Testimony. 

A very small portion of our knowledge of external 
things is obtained through our own senses ; by far the 
greater part is procured through other men, and this is 
received by us on the evidence of testimony. But, in 
receiving facts in this manner, we usually proceed with 
more caution, than when they come to us by our personal 
observation. We are much influenced, in the first place. 
by our confidence in the veracity of the narrator, and our 
knowledge of the opportunities which he has had of 
ascertaining the facts which he professes to relate. Thus, 
if he be a person on whose testimony we have formerly 
received important statements, which have turned out to 
be correct, we are the more ready to receive his testimony 
again; if he be a stranger to us, we receive it with 
greater caution ; if he has formerly misled us, we view 
it with suspicion, or reject it alogether. 

But there is another principle of very extensive appli- 
cation in such cases, and which is in a great measure 
independent of the character of the narrator. In n 
ing facts upon testimony, we are much influenced by 
their accordance with facts with which we are already 
acquainted. This is what, in common language, we call 
their probability; and statements whieh are probable, 
that is, in accordance with facts which we already know. 
are received upon a lower degree of evidence than those 
which are not in such accordance, or which, in other 
words, appear to us in the present state of our knowledge 



TESTIMONY. 5 5 

to be improbable. Now tbis is a sound and salutary 
caution, but we sbould beware of allowing it to influence 
us beyond its proper sphere. It should lead us to 
examine carefully the evidence upon which we receive 
facts, not in accordance with those which we have already 
acquired ; but we should beware of allowing it to engender 
scepticism. For, while an unbounded credulity is the 
part of a weak mind, which never thinks or reasons at 
all, an unlimited scepticism is the part of a contracted 
mind, which reasons upon imperfect data, or makes its 
own knowledge and extent of observation the standard 
and test of probability. An ignorant peasant may reject 
the testimony of a philosopher in regard to the size of 
the moon, because he thinks he has the evidence of his 
senses that it is only a foot in diameter ; and a person, 
holding a respectable rank in society, is said to have 
received with contempt the doctrine of the revolution of 
the earth on its axis, because he was perfectly satisfied 
that his house was never known to turn with its front to 
the north. When the king of Siam was told by a Dutch 
traveller, that, in Holland, at certain seasons of the year, 
water becomes so solid that an elephant might walk over 
it, he replied, " I have believed many extraordinary 
things which you have told me, because I took you for a 
man of truth and veracity, but now I am convinced that 
you lie." This confidence in one's own experience, as 
the test of probability, characterises a mind which is 
confined in its views and limited in its acquirements; 
and the tendency of it would be the rejection of all 
knowledge, for which we have not the evidence of our 
senses. Had the king of Siam once seen water in a 
frozen state, he would not only have been put right in 
regard to this fact, but his confidence would have been 
shaken in his own experience as the test of probability 
in other things ; and he would have been more disposed 
for the farther reception of truth upon the evidence of 
testimony. 



5 G TESTIMONY. 

Thus, progress in knowledge is not confined in its 
results to the mere facts which we acquire, but has also 
an extensive influence in enlarging the mind for the 
farther reception of truth, and setting it free from many 
of those prejudices which influence men who are limited 
by a narrow field of observation. There may even be 
cases in which, without any regard to the veracity of the 
narrator, a cultivated mind perceives the elements of 
truth in a statement, which is rejected by inferior minds 
as altogether incredible. An ingenious writer supposes 
a traveller of rather doubtful veracity bringing into the 
country of Archimedes an account of the steam-engine. 
His statement is rejected by his countrymen as altogether 
incredible. It is entirely at variance with their experi- 
ence, and they think it much more probable that the 
traveller should lie, than that such a thing should be. 
But, when he describes to Archimedes the arrangement 
of the machine, the philosopher perceives the result, 
and, without any consideration of the veracity of the 
narrator, decides, upon the evidence derived from the 
relation of the facts themselves, and their accordance 
with principles which are known to him, that the state- 
ment is unquestionably true. 

This illustration leads to a principle of the utmost 
practical importance. In judging of the credibility of a 
statement, we are not to be influenced simply by our 
actual experience of similar events ; for this would limit 
our reception of new facts to their accordance with those 
which we already know\ We must ox tend our views 
much farther than this, and proceed upon the knowledge, 
which we have derived from other sources, of the powers 
and properties of the agent to which the event is 
ascribed. It is on this principle that the account of the 
steam-engine would have appeared probable to Archi- 
medes, while it was rejected by his countrymen as 
absolutely incredible ; because he would have judged, 
not according to his experience of similar machinery, but 



TESTIMONY. 57 

according to his knowledge of the powers and properties 
of steam. In the same manner, when the king of Siam 
rejected, as an incredible falsehood, the account of the 
freezing of water, if there had been at his court a philo- 
sopher who had attended to the properties of heat, he 
would have judged in a different manner, though the 
actual fact of the freezing of water might have been as 
new to him as it was to the king. He would have 
recollected, that he had seen various solid bodies ren- 
dered fluid by the application of heat ; and that, on the 
abstraction of the additional heat, they again became 
solid. He would thus have argued the probability that, 
by a farther abstraction of heat, bodies might become 
solid which are fluid in the ordinary temperature of the 
atmosphere. In this manner, the fact, which was re- 
jected by the king, judging from his own experience, 
might have been received by the philosopher, judging 
from his knowledge of the powers and properties of heat, 
—though he had acquired this knowledge from events 
apparently far removed from that to which he now 
applied it. 

The principle here referred to is independent alto- 
gether of the direct reliance which we have on testimony 
in regard to things which are at variance with our expe- 
rience, when we are satisfied that the testimony has the 
characters of credibility ; but even on these grounds, we 
may perceive the fallacy of that application of the doc- 
trine of probability which has been employed by some 
writers, in opposition to the truths of revealed religion 
and to the means by which they are promulgated, parti- 
cularly the miracles of the sacred writings. Miracles, 
they contend, are deviations from the established course 
of nature, and are, consequently, contrary to our uniform 
experience. It accords with our experience that men 
should lie, and even that several men might concur in 
propagating the same lie ; and, therefore, it is more pro- 
bable that the narrators lied, than that the statement 



58 TESTIMONY. 

respecting miracles is time. Mr. Hume even went so 
fax as to maintain, that a miracle is so contrary to what 
is founded upon firm and unalterable experience, that it 
cannot be established by any human testimony. 

The fallacy of this argument may probably be main- 
tained from the principles which have been stated. It 
is, in fact, the same mode of reasoning which induced 
the king of Siam to reject the statement of water becom- 
ing solid. This was entirely contradicted by his "firm 
and unalterable experience," and, therefore, could not be 
received, even upon the evidence of a man whom he had 
already recognised as a witness of unquestionable vera- 
city, and upon whose single testimony he had received 
as truth "many extraordinary things." He thought 
it much more probable that even this man lied, than 
that such a statement could be true. Strictly speaking, 
indeed, the objection of Mr. Hume may be considered 
as little better than a play upon words. For what renders 
an occurrence miraculous is precisely the fact of its being 
opposed to uniform experience. To say, therefore, that 
miracles are incredible because they are contrary to 
experience, is merely to say, that they are incredible 
because they are miracles. 

They who are imposed upon by such a sophism as 
this, do not, in the first place, attend to the lact, that 
the term experience, if so much is to be founded upon it, 
must be limited to the personal observation of every 
individual ; that is, it can apply, in each particular 
case, only to the last fifty or sixty years at most, and to 
events which have happened during that period, at the 
spot where the individual was present Whatever he 
knows of events which took place beyond this spot, or 
before that period, he knows, not from experience, but 
entirely from testimony ; and a great part of our know- 
ledge of what we call the established course of nature, 
has been acquired in this manner. In the reception of 
new knowledge, then, an individual xuust either receive 



TESTIMONY. 59 

facts upon testimony, or believe nothing but that for 
which he has the evidence of his senses. It is unneces- 
sary to state how much the latter supposition is at 
variance with the daily practice of every man ; and how 
much information we are in the constant habit of receiv- 
ing upon testimony, even in regard to things which are 
much at variance with our personal observation. How 
many facts do we receive, in this manner, with unsus- 
pecting confidence, on the testimony of the historian, in 
regard to the occurrences of ancient times ; and on the 
testimony of the naturalist and the traveller, respecting 
the natural and civil history of foreign countries. How 
few persons have verified, by their personal observation, 
the wonders which we receive on the testimony of the 
astronomer; — and, even of the great phenomena of 
nature on the surface of our globe, how much do we 
receive upon testimony in regard to things which are 
widely at variance with our own experience. I need 
only mention the boiling springs of Iceland, and the 
phenomena of earthquakes and volcanoes. But, on the 
principles of Mr. Hume, these could not be believed. 
On the contrary, if one of our intelligent highlanders 
were hearing described to him the devastations of a 
volcano, he would point to his heath-covered mountain, 
as the basis of his "firm and unalterable experience," 
and declare it to be more probable that travellers should 
lie, than that such a statement could be true. 

The reception of facts upon the evidence of testimony 
must therefore be considered as a fundamental principle 
of our nature, to be acted upon whenever we are satisfied 
that the testimony possesses certain characters of credi- 
bility. These are chiefly referable to three heads : — 
that the individual has had sufficient opportunity of 
ascertaining the facts; that we have confidence in his 
power of judging of their accuracy ; and that we have no 
suspicion of his being influenced by passion or prejudice 
in his testimony, or, in other words, that we believe 



60 TESTIMONY. 

him to be an honest witness. Our confidence is farther 
strengthened by several witnesses concurring in the 
same testimony, each of whom has had the same oppor- 
tunities of ascertaining the facts, and presents the same 
characters of truth and honesty. On such testimony 
we are in the constant habit of receiving statement-, 
which are much beyond the sphere of our personal 
observation, and widely at variance with our experience. 
These are the statements, which, for the sake of a name, 
we may call marvellous. In regard to such, the founda- 
tion of incredulity, as we have seen, is generally ignorance ; 
and it is interesting to trace the principles by which a 
man of cultivated mind is influenced, in receiving upon 
testimony statements which are rejected by the vulgar 
as totally incredible. 

1. He is influenced by the recollection, that many 
things at one time appeared to him marvellous which he 
now knows to be true ; and he thence concludes that 
there may still be in nature many phenomena and many 
principles with which he is entirely unacquainted. In 
other words, he has learned from experience not to make 
his own knowledge his test of probability. 

2. He is greatly influenced by perceiving in the state- 
ment some element of probability, or any kind of sequence 
or relation, by which the alleged fact may be connected 
with principles which are known to him. It is in this 
manner that the freezing of water, which was rejected by 
the king of Siam as an incredible falsehood, might have 
appeared credible to a philosopher who had attended to 
the properties of heat, because he would have perceived 
in the statement a chain of relations connecting it with 
facts which he knew to be true. 

3. He is much guided by hi- power of discriminating 
the credibility of testimony, or of distinguishing i liat 
species and that amount of it, which he feels t>> be un- 
worthy of absolute credit, from that on which he relies 
with as implicit confidence as on the uniformity of the 



TESTIMONY. 61 

course of nature. The vulgar mind is often unable to 
make the necessary discrimination in this respect, and 
therefore is apt to fall into one of the extremes of cre- 
dulity or scepticism. Mr. Hume, indeed, himself admits 
that there is a certain amount of testimony on which he 
would receive a statement widely at variance with his 
own uniform experience, as in the hypothetical case which 
he proposes, — the account of a total darkness over the 
whole earth, continuing for eight days, two hundred years 
ago. The evidence which he requires for it is simply 
the concurrence of testimonies, namely, that all authors 
in all languages describe the event ; and that travellers 
bring accounts from all quarters, of traditions of the 
occurrence being still strong and lively among the people. 
On such evidence he admits that philosophers ought to 
receive it as certain. 

These principles may be considered as the elements 
of our belief in regard to statements which are new to 
us ; and it is interesting to remark how they balance and 
compensate each other. Thus, a statement which ap- 
pears probable, or can be readily referred to known rela- 
tions, is received upon a lower degree of testimony, as in the 
illustration respecting Archimedes and the steam-engine. 
Others, which we find greater difficulty in referring to 
any known principle, we may receive upon a certain 
amount of testimony, which we feel to be worthy of abso- 
lute confidence. But there may be others of so very 
extraordinary a kind, and so far removed from, or even 
opposed to, every known principle, that we may hesitate 
in receiving them upon any kind of testimony, unless we 
can discover in relation to them something on which the 
mind can fix as an element of moral probability. 

This leads us to a very obvious distinction of extra- 
ordinary events, — into those which are only marvellous, 
and those which are to be considered miraculous. A 
marvellous event is one which differs in all its elements 
from anything that we previously knew, without being 



G2 TESTIMONY. 

opposed to am- known principle. But a miraculous event 
implies much more than this, being directly opposed to 
what every man knows to be the established and uniform 
course of nature. It is farther required that such an 
event shall be of so obvious and palpable a kind, that 
every man is qualified to judge of its miraculous character, 
or is convinced it could not happen fron the operation 
of any ordinary natural cause. 

In receiving a statement respecting such an event, 
we require the highest species of testimony, or that on 
which we rely with the same confidence as on the uni- 
formity of the course of nature itself. But even with 
this amount of testimony, a doubt may still remain. For 
we have two amounts of probability which are equally 
balanced against each other ; namely, the probability that 
such testimony should not deceive us, and the probability 
that there should be no deviation from the course of 
nature. The concurring evidence of numerous credible 
witnesses, indeed, gives a decided preponderance to the 
testimony ; and upon a certain amount of testimony we 
might receive any statement, however improbable, as in 
the case admitted by Mr. Hume, of a universal darkness. 
But, though in such a case we might receive the state- 
ment as a fact which we could not dispute, the mind 
would be left in a state of absolute suspense and uncer- 
tainty, in regard to any judgment which we could form 
respecting it. Something more appears to be necessary 
for fixing the distinct belief of a miraculous interposi- 
tion ; and this is an impression of moral probability. 
This consists of two parts; (1.) A distinct reference of 
the event to a power which we feel to be capable of pro- 
ducing it, — namely, a direct interposition of the Deity. 
(2.) The perception of an adequate object, or a conviction 
of high moral probability, that an interposition of Divine 
power might be exerted in such circumstances, or for 
the accomplishment of such an object. Such are the 
miracles of the sacred writings. As events opposed to 



TESTIMONY. 63 

the common course of nature, they are, by the supposi- 
tion, physically improbable in the highest degree. Were 
they not so, — were they in the lowest degree probable 
according to our conceptions of the course of nature, — they 
could not be miracles, and consequently could not answer 
the purpose for which they are intended. But notwith- 
standing this species of improbability, they carry with 
them all the elements of absolute credibility, — namely, 
the highest species of testimony, supported by a moral 
probability which bears directly upon every element of 
the statement. This may be briefly referred to the 
following heads : — 

1. The human mind had wandered far from truth re- 
specting God ; and, on the great questions of his character 
and will, a future state, and the mode of acceptance in 
his sight, the light furnished by reason among the wisest 
of men was faint and feeble. On points of such impor- 
tance, there was the highest moral probability that the 
Deity would not leave mankind in this state of darkness, 
but would communicate to them some distinct knowledge. 

2. It is farther probable, that, if such a communication 
were made to men, it would be accompanied by prodigies 
or miraculous events, calculated to show beyond a doubt 
the immediate agency of God, and thus to establish the 
divine authority of the record. 

3. There is no improbability that the power of the 
Deity should produce deviations from the usual course 
of nature, capable of answering such a purpose. For 
what we call the course of nature is nothing more than 
an order of events which he has established ; and there 
is no improbability, that, for an adequate end, he might 
produce a deviation from this order. 

4. An important branch of the moral probability of 
the whole statement of the sacred writings, arises from 
the character of the truths themselves, challenging the 
assent and approbation of every uncontaminated mind. 
This part of the subject resolves itself into three parts; — 



C4 TESTIMONY. 

the truths relating to the character and perfections of 
the Deity ; the high and refined morality of the gospel ; 
and the adaptation of the whole provisions of Christianity 
to the actual condition of man as a moral being. The 
former carry a conviction of their truth to the mind of 
every candid inquirer ; the two latter fix themselves upon 
the conscience or moral feelings of all classes of men, 
with an impression which is irresistible. 

This mode of reasoning is not chargeable with that 
kind of fallacy which has sometimes been ascribed to it, 
that it professes first to prove the doctrine by the mira- 
cle, and then to try the miracle by the doctrine. The 
tendency of it is only to deduce from the various elements 
which really enter into the argument, a kind of com- 
pound evidence, the strongest certainly which, on such a 
subject, the human mind is capable of receiving. It is 
composed of the character of the truths, — the moral 
probability of a revelation of clear knowledge on subjects 
of such infinite importance, — and the highest species of 
testimony for the miraculous evidence by which the reve- 
lation was accompanied. There are principles in our 
nature calculated to perceive the manner in which the 
different parts of such an argument harmonise with each 
other ; and, upon every principle of correct reasoning, it 
is impossible to conceive anything more highly calculated 
to challenge the serious attention and absolute conviction 
of every sound understanding. 

This imperfect view of a deeply interesting subject 
will be sufficient to show the fallacy of the object inn 
which has been urged againt the credibility of miracles, 
— that they are contrary to our unalterable experience 
of the established course of nature. There might have 
been some degree of plausibility in the argument, if 
these events had been alleged t<> have taken place in 
ordinary circumstances ; but the case is essentially 
altered, and this kind of improbability is altogether re- 
moved, when, in the alleged deviation, a new agent is 



TESTIMONY. 65 

introduced entirely capable of producing it. Such, as 
■we have seen, are the miracles of the sacred writings ; 
and the question in regard to their probability is, not 
whether they are probable according to the usual course 
of nature, but whether they are probable in the circum- 
stances in which they are said to have taken place, 
namely, in the case of a direct interposition of the Deity 
for certain great and adequate purposes. This is what 
we call the moral probability of a miracle ; and in such 
a case, our estimate of probability must be founded, 
according to the principles already stated, not upon our 
experience of similar events, but on the knowledge 
which we derive from other sources, of the power of the 
agent to whom the event is ascribed. Now the agent to 
whom miracles are ascribed is the Supreme Being, the 
creator of all things, the stupendous monuments of whose 
omnipotent power are before us, and within us, and 
around us. What we call the established course of 
nature is merely an order of events which he has 
appointed ; and the question of probability is, whether it 
is probable, that, for certain adequate purposes, he should 
produce a deviation from this order. For such a state- 
ment, indeed, we require strong, numerous, credible, and 
concurring testimonies ; but it comes to be simply a ques- 
tion of evidence ; and there is no real improbability, that, 
in these circumstances, such events should take place. 

In this manner, then, there is entirely removed from 
the statement the improbability which is founded upon 
the uniformity of the ordinary course of nature ; because 
it is not in the ordinary course of nature that the events 
are alleged to have taken place, but in circumstances 
altogether new and peculiar. The subsequent inquiry 
becomes, therefore, simply a question of evidence ; and 
this evidence is derived from testimony. We are thus 
led to take a slight view of the grounds on which we 
estimate the credibility of testimony. 

Testimony, we are told, is fallacious, and is liable to 
F 



66 TESTIMONY. 

deceive us. But so are our senses; they also may 
deceive, and perhaps have deceived us, as in the case of 
ocular spectra ; but we do not, on that account, discredit 
the evidence of our eyes ; we only take means, in certain 
cases, for correcting their indications by other senses, as 
by touching the object, or by a comparison with the 
visual impressions of other men ; and, whatever proba- 
bility there is, that the eyes of one man may be deceived 
in any one instance, the probability is as nothing, that both 
his sight and touch should be deceived at once ; or that 
the senses of ten men should be deceived in the same 
manner at the same time. It is the same with regard 
to testimony. It may have deceived us in particular 
instances ; but this applies to one species of testimony 
only ; there is another species winch never deceived us. 
We learn by experience to separate distinctly the one 
from the other, and to fix upon a species of testimony on 
which we rely with the same confidence as on the 
uniformity of the course of nature. Thus, if we find 
a man who in other respects shows every indication of a 
sound mind, relating an event which happened under his 
own inspection, and in such circumstances that he could 
not possibly be deceived ; if this statement be such as 
contributes in no respect to his credit or advantage, but, 
on the contrary, exposes him to ridicule, contempt, and 
danger ; if, notwithstanding, he steadily perseveres in it, 
under every species of persecution, and even to the 
suffering of death ; — to suppose such a testimony in- 
tended to deceive, would be to assume a deviation from 
the established course of human character, as remarkable 
as any event which it could possibly convey to us. This 
might be maintained in regard to one such testimony ; 
but, if we find numerous witnesses agreeing in the same 
testimony, all equally informed of the facts, all showing 
the same characters of credibility, and without the 
possibility of concert or connivance, the evidence becomes 
not convincing only, but incontrovertible. 



TESTIMONY. 67 

The grounds on -which we receive with confidence the 
evidence of testimony, may therefore be briefly stated 
in the following manner : — 

1. That the statement refers to a matter of fact, — 
that the fact was such as could be easily ascertained by 
the person who relates it, — and that he had sufficient 
opportunity of ascertaining it. When the statement 
includes a point of opinion, the case comes under another 
principle ; and we require, in the first instance, to sepa- 
rate what is opinion from what is fact. 

2. That we have no reason to suspect the witness to 
be influenced by interest or passion in his evidence ; or 
that he has any purpose to answer by it, calculated to 
promote his own advantage. 

3. That various individuals, without suspicion of con- 
nivance, have concurred in the same statement. This is 
a point of the utmost importance ; and, in cases in which 
we are satisfied that there could be no connivance, a 
degree of evidence is derived from the concurrence of 
testimonies, which may be often independent even of the 
credibility of the individual witnesses. For, though it 
were probable that each of them singly might lie, the 
chances that they should all happen to agree in the same 
lie, may be found to amount to an impossibility. On 
this subject, there is also a farther principle of the 
greatest interest, which has been well illustrated by 
Laplace, namely, that the more improbable a statement 
is, in which such witnesses agree, the greater is the pro- 
bability of its truth. Thus we may have two men whom 
we know to be so addicted to lying, that we would not 
attach the smallest credit to their single testimony on 
any subject. If we find these concurring in a statement 
respecting an event which was highly probable, or very 
likely to have occurred at the time which they mention, 
we may still have a suspicion that they are lying, and 
that they may have happened to concur in the same lie, 
even though there should be no supposition of connivance. 

f2 



68 TESTIMONY. 

But, if the statement was in the highest degree impro- 
bable, such as that of a man rising from the dead, we 
may feel it to be impossible that they could accidentally 
have agreed in such a statement ; and, if we are satisfied 
that there could be no connivance, we may receive a con- 
viction from its very improbability that it must be true. 
In cases of concurring testimonies, we expect that the 
witnesses shall agree in all essential and important par- 
ticulars ; and, on the other hand, evidence of the authen- 
ticity of testimony is sometimes derived from the various 
witnesses differing in trifling circumstances in such a 
manner, as, without weakening the mam statement, tends 
to remove the suspicion of collusion or connivance. 

4. In all matters of testimony, we are greatly influ- 
enced by our confidence in a certain uniformity of human 
character. We attach much importance, for example, to 
our previous knowledge of the narrator's character for 
veracity ; and a man may have acquired such a character 
in this respect, that we confide in his veracity in every 
instance in which his testimony is concerned, with a con- 
fidence equal to that with which we rely on the unifor- 
mity of the course of nature. In such a case, indeed, 
we proceed upon a uniformity which applies only to a 
particular order, namely, those whom we consider as men 
of veracity. But there is also a principle of uniformity 
which applies to the whole species ; and in which we 
confide as regulating every man of sane mind. Thus, if 
the statement of a narrator contain circumstances tending 
to promote his own advantage, we calculate on the pro- 
bability of fabrication, and reject Ins evidence, unless we 
had previously acquired absolute confidence in his 
veracity. But if, on the contrary, his statement operates 
against himself, conveying an imputation against his 
own character, or exposing him to contempt, ridicule, or 
personal injury, — without any previous knowledge of his ve- 
racity, we are satisfied that nothing could make him adhere 
to such a testimony, but an honest conviction of its truth. 



TESTIMONY. 69 

5. Avery important circumstance is the absence of 
any contradictory or conflicting testimony. This applies, 
in a striking manner, to the rniraculous statements of 
the sacred writings ; for, even on the part of those who 
were most interested in opposing them, there is no tes- 
timony which professes to show, that, at the time when 
the miracles are said to have taken place, they did not 
take place. It is, indeed, a remarkable circumstance, 
that the earliest writers against Christianity ascribe the 
miraculous events to the power of sorcery or magic, but 
never attempt to call them in question as matters of fact. 

6. Much corroboration of testimony may often be 
obtained from our knowledge of facts of such a nature, 
as, without directly bearing upon the statements to which 
the testimony refers, cannot be accounted for on any 
other supposition than the conviction of these statements 
being true. This principle applies, in a remarkable 
manner, to the miraculous histories of the sacred writ- 
ings. We know, as a historical fact, the rapid manner 
in which the Christian faith was propagated in the early 
ages, against the most formidable opposition, and by 
means of the feeblest human instruments. We are told, 
that this was owing to the conviction produced by miracu- 
lous displays of divine power ; — we feel that the known 
effect corresponds with the alleged cause : and that it 
cannot be accounted for on any other principle. 

It does not belong to our present inquiry, to allude 
more particularly to the direct evidence by which the 
miracles of the sacred writings are supported ; we merely 
refer, in this general manner, to the principles on which 
the evidence is to be estimated. A very interesting 
branch of the subject will come under our view, when we 
speak of memoiy and arbitrary association. We shall 
then see the irresistible importance of the commemora- 
tive rites of Christianity, by which the memory of these 
events has been transmitted from age to age, or rather 
from year to year ; and by which our minds are carried 



backwards, in one unbroken series, to the time when the 
events occurred, and to the individuals who witnessed 
them. In this manner, also, is entirely removed any- 
feeling of uncertainty, which may attach to testimony, as 
we recede from the period at which the events took 
place, and as the individuals are multiplied through 
whom the account has been transmitted. Upon the 
whole, therefore, the evidence becomes so clear and con- 
clusive, that we may say of those who reject it, what the 
great author of Christianity said on another occasion, — 
" if they hear not these, neither will they be persuaded 
though one rose from the dead." 



PAET III. 

OF THE INTELLECTUAL OPEEATIONS. 

Through the various sources referred to iu the pre- 
ceding observations, we acquire the knowledge of a cer- 
tain number of facts, relating either to the mind itself, 
or to things external to it. The next part of our inquiry- 
refers to the operations, (to use a figurative expression,) 
which the mind performs upon the facts thus acquired. 
The term functions, or powers of mind, has often been 
applied to these operations ; but, as we are not entitled 
to assume that they are in fact separate functions in the 
usual acceptation of that expression, it is perhaps more 
correct, and accords better with our limited knowledge of 
mind, to speak simply of the operations which it is ca- 
pable of performing upon a given series of facts. These 
seem to be chiefly referable to the following heads. 

I. We remember the facts ; and we can also recall 
them into the mind at pleasure. The former of these 
operations is Memoev ; the latter is that modification 
of it which we call Eecollection. But, besides this 
simple recollection of facts, we can recall a preception ; 
that is, the impression of an actual scene which has 
been witnessed, or a person who has been seen, so as to 
place them, as it were, before the mind, with all the 
vividness of the original perception. This process is 
called Conception. It is often described as a distinct 
power, or a distinct operation of the mind ; but it seems 
to be so nearly allied to memory, that it may be consi- 
dered as a modification of it. It is the memory of a per- 
ception. 



72 INTELLECTUAL OPERATIONS. 

II. We separate facts from the relation in which they 
were originally presented to us, and contemplate some 
of them apart from the rest ; — considering, for example, 
certain properties of bodies apart from their other pro- 
perties. Among a variety of objects, we thus fix upon 
qualities which are common to a certain number of them, 
and so arrange them into genera and species. This 
process is usually called Abstraction. 

III. We separate scenes or classes of facts into their 
constituent elements, and form these elements into new 
combinations, so as to represent to ourselves scenes, or 
combinations of events, which have no real existence. 
This is Imagination. 

IV. We compare facts with each other, — observe 
their relations and connexions, — and trace the results 
which follow particular combinations of them. We also 
observe their general characters, so as to deduce from 
the whole general facts or general principles. This is 
Reason or Judgment. 

In this arrangement, it will be observed, I confine 
myself entirely to facts. I do not say that the mind 
possesses distinct faculties, which we call memory, ab- 
straction, imagination, and judgment, — for this at once 
leads into hypotheses ; but simply that, in point of ~fact, 
the mind remembers, abstracts, imagines, and judges. 
These processes appear to constitute distinct mental acts, 
which every one is conscious of who attends to the phe- 
nomena of his own mind. But beyond the simple facts 
we know nothing, and no human ingenuity can lead us 
one step farther. Some of the followers of Dr. Eeid 
appear to have erred in this respect, by ascribing to the 
mind distinct faculties or functions, somewhat in the 
manner in which we ascribe to the body distinct senses. 
Dr. Brown, on the other hand, has shown much inge- 



nuity in his attempts to simplify the arrangement of the 
mental processes, by referring them all to his two prin- 
ciples of simple and relative suggestion. But without 
inquiring what has been gained to the science by this 
new phraseology, and avoiding entirely any system which 
seems to suppose distinct functions of mind, I confine 
myself to facts respecting the actual mental operations ; 
and it appears to answer best the purposes of practical 
utility to speak of these operations in the arrangement, 
and by the names, which are commonly used by the 
generality of mankind. 



SECTION I. 
Memory. 

By Memory, we retain the impression of facts or 
events ; and by Recollection we recall them into the 
mind by a voluntary effort. By Conception we recall 
perceptions, or the impression of actual scenes, persons, 
or transactions : thus a skilful painter can delineate from 
conception a landscape a considerable time after he has 
seen it, or the countenance of a friend who is dead or 
absent. These appear to be the leading phenomena 
which are referable to the head of Memory. 

There seem to be original differences in the power of 
memory, some individuals being remarkable for retentive 
memory, though not otherwise distinguished by their in- 
tellectual endowments. Thus, persons have been known 
to repeat a long discourse after once hearing it, or even 
a series of things without connexion, as a long column of 
figures, or a number of words without meaning. There 
is on record the account of a man who could repeat the 
whole contents of a newspaper; and of another who 
could retain words that were dictated to him, without 
any connexion, to the amount of six thousand. A man 



74 MEMORY. 

mentioned by Seneca, after hearing a poet read a new 
poem, claimed it as his own ; and, in proof of his claim, 
repeated the poem from beginning to end, which the 
author could not do. A similar anecdote is told of an 
Englishman, whom the King of Prussia placed behind a 
screen, when Voltaire came to read to him a new poem 
of considerable length It has been alleged, that this 
kind of memory is generally connected with inferiority 
of the other intellectual powers ; but there appears to be 
no foundation for this. For, though the mere memory 
of words may be met with in a high degree in persons of 
defective undertanding, it is also true that men of high 
endowments have been remarkable for memory. It is 
said that Themistocles could name all the citizens of 
Athens, amounting to twenty thousand ; and that Cyrus 
knew the name of every soldier in his army. 

The late Dr. Leyden was remarkable for his memory. 
I am informed, through a gentleman who was intimately 
acquainted with him, that he could repeat correctly a 
long act of parliament, or any similar document, after 
having once read it. When he was, on one occasion, 
congratulated by a friend on his remarkable power in 
this respect, he replied, that instead of an advantage it 
was often a source of great inconvenience. This he ex- 
plained by saying, that when he wished to recollect a 
particular point in anything which he had read, he could 
do it only by repeating to himself the whole from the 
commencement till he reached the point which he wished 
to recall. 

We may find a mere local memory combined with 
very little judgment; — that is, the power of remem- 
bering facts in the order in which they occurred, or 
words in the order in which they were addressed to the 
individual ; but that kind of memory which is founded, 
not upon local or incidental relations, but upon real ana- 
logies, must be considered as an important feature of a 
cultivated mind, and as holding an important place in 



ATTENTION. 75 

the formation of intellectual character. The former 
kind of memory, however, is often the more ready, and 
is that which generally makes the greater show, both on 
account of its readiness, and likewise because the kind 
of facts with which it is chiefly conversant are usually 
those most in request in common conversation. 

These facts are referred to as matters of curiosity 
only. The points of real interest and practical im- 
portance, in regard to memory, respect the manner in 
which it is influenced by the intellectual habits of indi- 
viduals, — and the principles on which it may be im- 
proved. These are referable chiefly to two heads,- — 
Attention, and Association. 

Memory is very much influenced by Attention, or a 
full and distinct perception of the fact or object with a 
view to its being remembered ; and by the perception 
being kept before the mind, in this distinct manner, for 
a certain time. The distinct recollection of the fact, in 
such cases, is generally in proportion to the intensity 
with which it has been contemplated ; and this is also 
very much strengthened by its being repeatedly brought 
before the mind. Most people, accordingly, have expe- 
rienced, that a statement is more strongly impressed 
upon the memory by being several times repeated to 
others. It is on the same principle, that memory is 
greatly assisted by writing down the object of our 
knowledge, especially if this be done in a distinct and 
systematic manner. A subject also is more distinctly 
conceived, and more correctly remembered, after we 
have instructed another person in it. Such exercises are 
not strictly to be considered as helps to the memory, but 
as excitements to attention ; and as thus leading to that 
clear and full comprehension of the subject, which is 
required for the distinct remembrance of it. 

It is familiar to every one that there are great differ- 
ences in memory, both in respect to the facility of acquire- 
ment, and the power of retention. In the former there 



appear to be original differences, — but a great deal also 
depends upon habit. In the power of retention much 
depends, as we shall afterwards see, upon the habit of 
correct association ; but, besides this, there are facts 
which seem to show a singular connexion with the man- 
ner in which the acquisition was made. The following 
fact was communicated to me by an able and intelligent 
friend, who heard it from the individual to whom it 
relates. A distinguished theatrical performer, in conse- 
quence of the sudden illness of another actor, had occa- 
sion to prepare himself, on a few hours' notice, for a part 
which was entirely new to him ; and the part was long 
and rather difficult. He acquired it in a very short 
time, and went though it with perfect accuracy, but 
immediately after the performance forgot it to such a 
degree, that though he performed the character for 
several days in succession, he was obliged every day to 
study it anew. Characters which he had acquired in a 
more deliberate manner he never forgets, but can perform 
them at any time without a moment's preparation. When 
questioned respecting the mental process which he em- 
ployed the first time he performed this part, he says, 
that he lost sight entirely of the audience, and seemed 
to have nothing before him but the pages of the book 
from which he had learnt it ; and that, if anything had 
occurred to interrupt this illusion, he should have stopt 
instantly. 

That degree of attention, which is required for the full 
remembrance of a subject, is to be considered as a volun- 
tary act on the part of the individual ; but the actual 
exercise of it is influenced, in a great measure, by his 
previous intellectual habits. Of four individuals, for 
example, who are giving an account of a journey through 
the same district, one may describe chiefly its agri- 
cultural produce ; another, its mineralogical character ; 
a third, its picturesque beauties ; while the fourth may 
not be able to give an account of anything except the 



ASSOCIATION. 77 

state of the roads and the facilities for travelling. The 
same facts or objects must have passed before the senses 
of all the four ; but their remembrance of them depends 
upon the points to which their attention was directed. 
Besides the manner here alluded to, in which the atten- 
tion is influenced by previous habits or pursuits, some 
persons have an active inquiring state of mind, which 
keeps the attention fully engaged upon whatever is 
passing before them ; while others give way to a listless 
inactive condition, which requires to be strongly excited 
before the attention is roused to the degree required for 
remembrance. The former, accordingly, remember a great 
deal of all that passes before them, either in reading or 
observation. The latter are apt to say that they are 
deficient in memory ; their deficiency, however, is not in 
memory but in attention ; and this appears from the fact, 
that they do not forget anything which deeply engages 
their feelings, or concerns their interest. 

The habit of listless inactivity of mind should be 
carefully guarded against in the young ; and the 
utmost care should be taken to cultivate the habit of 
directing the mind intensely to whatever comes before 
it, either in reading or observation. This may be con: 
sidered as forming the foundation of sound intellectual 
character. 

Next to the effect of attention, is the remarkable 
influence produced upon memory by Association. This 
principle holds so important a place in relation to the 
mental operations, that some philosophers have been dis- 
posed to refer to it nearly all the phenomena of mind ; 
but, without ascribing to it this universal influence, its 
effects are certainly very extensive, and the facts con- 
nected with it present a subject of peculiar interest. 

The principle of association is founded upon a remark- 
able tendency, by which two or more facts or conceptions, 
which have been contemplated together, or in immediate 



succession, become so connected in the mind, that one of 
them at a future time recalls the others, or introduces a 
train of thoughts, which, without any mental effort, follow 
each other in the order in which they were originally 
associated. This is called the association of ideas, and 
various phenomena of a very interesting kind are 
connected with it. 

But, besides this tendency, by which thoughts formerly 
associated are brought into the mind in a particular 
order, there is another species of association, into which 
the mind passes spontaneously, by a suggestion from any 
subject which happens to be present to it. The thought 
or fact, which is thus present, suggests another which 
has some kind of affinity to it ; this suggests a third, and 
so on to the formation of a train or series which may be 
continued to a great length. A remarkable circumstance 
likewise is, that such a train may go on with very little 
consciousness of, or attention to it ; so that the particu- 
lars of the series are scarcely remembered, or are traced 
only by an effort. This singular fact every one must 
have experienced in that state of mind which is called a 
reverie. It goes on for some time without effort, and 
with little attention ; at length the attention is roused, 
and directed to a particular thought which is in the mind, 
without the person being able at first to recollect what 
led him to think of that subject. He then, by a volun- 
tary effort, traces the chain of thoughts backwards, 
perhaps through a long series, till he arrives at a subject 
of which he has a distinct remembrance as having given 
rise to it. 

It is impossible distinctly to trace the principles which 
lead to the particular chain of thoughts which arise in a 
case of this kind. It is probably much influenced by the 
previous intellectual habits of the individual ; and, 
perhaps in many instances, is guided by associations 
previously formed. There are also among the facts or 
thoughts themselves, certain principles of analogy, by 



ASSOCIATION. 79 

which one suggests another without that kind of con- 
nexion which is established by previous proximity. These 
have usually been called principles of association, or, 
according to the phraseology of Dr. Brown, principles of 
simple suggestion. They have been generally referred 
to four heads, — resemblance, — contiguity, in time and 
place, — cause and effect, — and contrast : and others have 
reduced them to three, considering contiguity, and cause 
and effect, as referable to the same head. On these 
principles, then, one thought may suggest another which 
has some relation to it, either in the way of resemblance, 
contiguity, cause, effect, or contrast. But still the ques- 
tion recurs, what gives rise to the occurrence of one of 
these relations in preference to the others ? This may 
depend, in some instances, on previous habits of thought, 
and peculiarities of mental temperament ; and in other 
cases associations may be more apt to occur, according as 
some analogous association may have been more recently 
formed, more lively, or more frequently repeated. When 
the common topic of the weather, for example, is intro- 
duced in conversation, or presented to the mind, the 
agriculturist will naturally refer to its influence on vege- 
tation ; the physician to its effects on the health of the 
community ; the man of pleasure may think only of its 
reference to the sports of the field ; the philosopher may 
endeavour to seek for its cause in some preceding at- 
mospheric phenomena; and another person of certain 
habits of observation may compare or contrast it with the 
weather of the same period in a preceding year. Thus, 
in five individuals, the same topic may give rise to five 
trains of thought, perfectly distinct from each other, yet 
each depending upon a very natural and obvious principle 
of suggestion. In other instances, it is impossible to 
trace the cause which leads the mind into peculiar and 
unusual associations. The following example from Hobbes 
has been frequently referred to. " In a company in 
which the conversation turned on the civil war, what 



80 MEMOBT. 

could be conceived more impertinent than for a person to 
ask abruptly what was the value of a Roman denarius ? 
On a little reflection, however, I was easily able to trace 
the train of thought which suggested the question ; for 
the original subject of discourse naturally introduced the 
history of the King, and of the treachery of those who 
surrendered his person to his enemies ; this again intro- 
duced the treachery of Judas Iscariot, and the sum of 
money which he received for his reward. And all this 
train of ideas passed through the mind of the speaker in 
a twinkling, in consequence of the velocity of thought." 
Mr. Stewart adds, in relation to this anecdote, " it is by 
no means improbable, that if the speaker had been 
interrogated about the connexion of ideas w T hich led him 
aside from the original topic of discourse, he would have 
found himself, at first, at a loss for an answer." 

In the mental process now referred to, it is probable 
that the term suggestion is much more correct than asso- 
ciation, which has often been applied to it. For in the 
cases which belong to this class, the facts or thoughts 
suggest each other, not according to any connexion or 
association which the mind had previously formed be- 
tween them, but according to some mental impression or 
emotion, which by a law of our constitution proves a 
principle of analogy or suggestion. We readily perceive 
how this takes place in regard to circumstances which 
are allied to each other by resemblance, contiguity, cause, 
or effect ; and the suggestion of contrast must also occur 
to every one as by no means unnatural. Thus, the sight 
of a remarkably fat man may recall to us the thought of 
another man we had lately seen, who was equally re- 
markable for his leanness : the playfulness and mirth of 
childhood may suggest the cares and anxieties of after- 
life ; and an instance of conduct, which we greatly dis- 
approve, may lead us to recollect how very differently 
another individual conducted himself in similar cir- 
cumstances. 



PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION. 81 

In a practical view, the subject of association leads us 
chiefly to a consideration of the manner in which facts 
are so associated in the mind as to be recalled by means 
of the connexion ; in other words, the influence of asso- 
ciation upon memory. In this view associations are dis- 
tinctly referable to three classes : — 

I. Natural or philosophical association. 
IT. Local or incidental association. 

III. Arbitrary or fictitious association. 

A variety of mental phenomena of the most interest- 
ing kind will be found connected with the subjects 
referred to under these classes. The principle on which 
they all depend, is simply the circumstance of two or 
more facts, thoughts, or events, being contemplated 
together by the mind, though many of them have no 
relation to each other except this conjunction. The 
strength of the association is generally in proportion to, 
the intensity of the mental emotion ; and is likewise in 
a great measure regulated by the length of time, or the 
number of times, in which the facts have been contem- 
plated in this connexion. Astonishing examples may 
often be met with, of facts or occurrences, which have 
long ceased to be objects of simple memoiy, being 
brought up in this manner by association, though they 
had not passed through the mind for a veiy long time. 

I. Natural or Philosophical Association takes 
place when a fact or statement, on which the attention 
j is fixed, is, by a mental process, associated with some 
! fact previously known, to which it has a relation, or with 
I some subject which it is calculated to illustrate. The 
; fact so acquired is thus, to use a figurative expression, 
i put by in its proper place in the mind, and can afterwards 
be recalled by means of the association. 

The formation of associations in this manner, is of 
course influenced in a very great degree by previous 
mental habits, pursuits, or subjects of reflection; and, 

G 



82 MEMORY. 

according to the nature and the variety of these pursuits 
or subjects of thought, facts which by some are passed 
by and instantly forgotten, may be fixed upon by others 
with eager attention, and referred to some principle 
which they are calculated to illustrate. Examples of this 
kind must be familiar to every one ; I may mention the 
following : in a party of gentlemen the conversation 
turned on the warlike character of the Mahrattas as com- 
pared with the natives of Lower India, and the explana- 
tion given of it by an author who refers it to their use of 
animal food, from which the Hindoos are said to be pro- 
hibited by their religion. A doubt was started respect- 
ing the extent to which Hindoos are prohibited from 
the use of animal food ; some were of one opinion and 
some of another, and the point was left undecided. 
Reading, soon after, the Journal of Bishop Heber, I 
found it stated, that at one time during his journey, when 
a large supply of meat was brought to him, he ordered 
three lambs to be sent to his Hindoo attendants, and 
that the gift was received with every expression of grati- 
tude. On another occasion, such a fact might have been 
passed by without producing any impression ; or it might 
have been slightly associated with the good Bishops 
attention to the comfort of all around him, but not 
remembered beyond the passing moment. In connexion 
with the discussion now mentioned, it became a fact of 
great interest, and never to be forgotten ; and led to 
inquiry after more precise information on the subject to 
which it related. 

This trifling example may serve to illustrate the prin- 
ciple, that the remembrance of insulated facts does not 
depend merely upon the degree of attention directed to 
them, but also on the existence in the mind of subjects 
of thought with which the new fact may be associated. 
Other facts, as they occur, will afterwards be added from 
time to time, giving rise to a progressive increase of 
knowledge in a mind in which this mental process is 



PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION. 83 

regularly carried on. This habit of attention and asso- 
ciation ought therefore to be carefully cultivated, as it 
must have a great influence on our progress in know- 
ledge, and likewise on the formation of intellectual cha- 
racter, provided the associations be made upon sound 
principles, or according to the true and important rela- 
tions of things. It is also closely connected with that 
activity of mind which is ever on the alert for knowledge 
from every source that comes within its reach ; and that 
habit of reflection which always connects with such facts 
the conclusions to which they lead, and the views which 
they tend to illustrate. On this principle also, every 
new fact which is acquired, or every new subject of 
thought which is brought before the mind, is not only 
valuable in itself, but also becomes the basis or nucleus 
of farther information. Minds which are thus fur- 
nished with the requisite foundation of knowledge, and 
act uniformly upon these principles of enlarging it, wilL 
find interesting matter to be associated and remem- 
bered, where others find only amusement for a vacant 
hour, which passes away and is forgotten. There is also 
another respect in which the habit of correct and philo- 
sophical association assists the memory, and contributes 
to progress in knowledge. For by means of it, when 
applied to a great mass of facts relating to the same 
subject, we arrive at certain general facts, which repre- 
sent a numerous body of the individuals, and the re- 
membrance of which is equivalent to the remembrance 
of the whole. 

The associations referred to under this first head, 
arise out of the real relations of facts to each other, or 
to subjects of thought previously existing in the mind. 
The particular train of association, therefore, which is 
formed from the same facts, by different individuals, 
may vary exceedingly. Thus, the same facts may often 
admit of various applications, or, in other words, of being 
associated in various ways, by different persons, according 
g2 



84 MEMORY. 

to their intellectual habits, or by the same person at dif- 
ferent times, according to the subject of thought which 
happens to be more immediately present. 

When various facts have been associated in the mind, 
in the manner now referred to, they form a series which 
hang together and recall each other in a very remarkable 
manner. There are two ways in which this takes place, 
which may be called voluntary and spontaneous. (I.) 
We call up facts by a voluntary effort, by directing the 
mind into particular trains of thought calculated to lead 
to those which we are in search of. This is what we 
call recollecting ourselves on a particular subject. We 
have an impression, perhaps, that the mind is in posses- 
sion of information which bears upon the subject, but do 
not at the moment remember it ; or we remember some 
circumstances, and wish to recall a more full and com- 
plete remembrance. We therefore commence a mental 
process which consists in putting in motion, to speak 
figuratively, a train of thoughts, or a series of associated 
facts, which we think calculated to lead us to the facts 
which we wish to recall. (2.) Associations recur spon- 
taneously, either when particular topics naturally leading 
to them are brought before the mind, in reading or con- 
versation, or in that state in which the mind is left to 
follow, without any effort, the current of thoughts as they 
succeed each other. In the healthy state of the mind, we 
can give way to this spontaneous succession of thoughts ; 
or we can check it at our pleasure, and direct the mind 
into some new train connected with the same subject, or 
arising out of it ; or we can dismiss it altogether. While 
we allow it to go on, it does so, not only without effort, 
but often without consciousness ; so that when the atten- 
tion is, after some time, arrested by a subject of thought 
which is in the mind, we do not at first remember what 
led us to think of it, and begin to recollect ourselves by 
tracing the series backwards. In this state of mind, it 
is most interesting to observe the manner in which old 



LOCAL ASSOCIATION. 85 

associations are revived, and old recollections renewed, 
which seemed to have been lost or forgotten ; and how 
facts and occurrences come into the mind which had 
not been thought of for many years. They are recalled, 
we scarcely know how, by some train of association which 
we can hardly trace, and which had long ceased to be 
the subject of any voluntary effort of attention. "We 
shall again allude to this most interesting subject, in 
relation to the manner in which associations, long for-* 
gotten, are sometimes brought into the mind in dreaming, 
and in certain states of delirium. 

The voluntary power over the succession of thoughts 
and associations which has now been alluded to is a 
subject of extreme interest. We shall have occasion to 
refer to it again when we come to speak of a remarkable 
condition in which it is lost, and in which the mind is 
left entirely under the influence of the series of thoughts 
as they happen to succeed each other, according probably 
to old associations, without the power of arresting or 
varying it. This occurs in two very interesting mental 
conditions to be afterwards more particularly mentioned, 
— dreaming and insanity. 

II. Local oe Incidental Association. — In the 
mental process referred to under the preceding head, 
facts or thoughts are associated according to certain real 
relations ; though these, we have seen, may be various ; 
and the particular relation which is fixed upon, in parti- 
cular cases, depends upon the intellectual habits of the 
individual. In the class now to be mentioned, the asso- 
ciations are formed according to no other relations than 
such as are entirely local or casual. Thus, a fact, a 
thought, or a mental impression, is associated with the 
person by whom it was communicated, or the place 
where the communication was made ; and is recalled to 
the mind when the place or person is seen, mentioned, 
or thought of. Some persons seem to form almost no 



other associations than those of this description. When 
a place which they had visited, for example, is spoken 
of, they immediately relate in connexion with it, the 
persons whom they met there, incidents which occurred 
in their company, and opinions or statements which were 
mentioned in conversation with them ; and from this, 
perhaps, they may branch off to other circumstances 
relating to these individuals, their families, or connexions. 
These mere local associations, however, often make a 
very deep impression upon the mind ; more vivid, cer- 
tainly, than simple memory of the facts or transactions 
connected with them. Thus, we avoid a place which is 
associated with some painful recollection ; yet the very 
fact of avoiding it shows that we have a full remem- 
brance of the circumstances, and, at the same time, a 
conviction that the sight of the spot would make the 
impression more vivid and more painful. After the death 
of a beloved child or a much valued friend, we may re- 
tain a lively remembrance of them, and even anxiously 
cherish the impression of their endearing qualities ; yet, 
after time has in some measure blunted the acuteness 
of feeling, the accidental discovery of some trifling 
memorial, strongly associated with the lamented object 
of our affection, produces a freshness and intensity of 
emotion, known only to those who have experienced it. 
This feeling is peculiarly strong, if the memorial has 
been long lost sight of, and discovered by accident, — 
because, as has been well remarked by Dr. Brown, it in 
this case presents the unmixed image of the friend with 
whom it is associated ; whereas a memorial which has 
become familiar to us, is associated with other feelings 
not relating exclusively to him. Philosophers have at- 
tempted to explain the mental phenomenon here referred 
to by supposing, that, in such cases, the mingling of 
mental emotion with actual perception gives a feeling of 
reality to the emotion, and, for the time, a kind of belief 
of the existence of the object of it. This is sufficiently 



LOCAL ASSOCIATION. 87 

plausible, but, after all, amounts to little more than 
expressing the fact in other words, without conveying 
any real explanation. 

Similar impressions, whether of a pleasurable or pain- 
ful character, according to the original feeling which is 
thus recalled, are excited by the sight of a spot which 
we have visited while under the influence of strong 
emotion ; by a tune, — a piece of poetry, — an article of 
dress, or the most trifling object with which, from inci^ 
dental circumstances, the association was made. The 
effect of a particular tune on the Swiss regiments, in 
foreign service, is familiar to every one ; and a similar 
effect has been remarked, from a similar cause, among 
the Highland regiments of our own country. The 
feelings thus produced may be so vivid, as even to 
overpower present emotions ; to excite pleasure amid 
circumstances of pain or depression; and to produce 
depressing and painful emotions, when all present cir- 
cumstances are calculated to give satisfaction. Hence, 
it is probable that the principle might often be employed 
with much advantage, as a moral remedy, in various 
circumstances of depressing disease, as in the low state 
of fever, and certain conditions of insanity. A pleasing 
anecdote of this kind is mentioned by Dr. Rush : — 
" During the time that I passed at a country school, in 
Cecil county in Maryland, I often went on a holyday, 
with my schoolmates, to see an eagle's nest upon the 
summit of a dead tree, in the neighbourhood of the 
school, during the time of the incubation of the bird. 
The daughter of the farmer, in whose field the tree 
stood, and with whom I became acquainted, married, 
and settled in this city about forty years ago. In our 
occasional interviews, we now and then spoke of the 
innocent haunts and rural pleasures of our youth, and 
among others, of the eagle's nest in her father's field 
A few years ago, I was called to visit this woman when 
she was in the lowest stage of typhus fever. Upon 



entering the room I caught her eye, and, with a cheerful 
tone of voice, said only, the eagle's nest. She seized my 
hand, without being able to speak, and discovered strong 
emotions of pleasure in her countenance, probably from 
a sudden association of all her early domestic connections 
and enjoyments with the words which I uttered. From 
that time, she began to recover. She is now living, and 
seldom fails, when we meet, to salute me with the echo 
of the ' eagle's nest.' " 

There is even something in these mere local associa- 
tions, which fixes an impression upon the mind, almost 
independent of memory, and upon a principle with which 
we are little acquainted. The following anecdote is, I 
believe, authentic, though I cannot at present refer to 
the work in which it is related. It is certainly one of 
the most extraordinary of its kind, and yet we see 
enough of the principle, in various instances, to give it 
a high degree of probability. A lady, in the last stage 
of a chronic disease, was carried from London to a lodg- 
ing in the country : — there, her infant daughter was 
taken to visit her, and, after a short interview, carried 
back to town. The lady died a few days after, and the 
daughter grew up without any recollection of her mother, 
till she was of mature age. At this time, she happened 
to be taken into the room in which her mother died, 
without knowing it to have been so ; — she started on en- 
tering it, and, when a friend who was along with her, 
asked the cause of her agitation, replied, " I have a dis- 
tinct impression of having been in this room before, and 
that a lady, who lay in that corner, and seemed very ill, 
leaned over me and wept." 

The singular influence of local association is often 
illustrated by the most trivial occurrences. Walking in 
the street some years ago, I met a lady whose face was 
familiar to me, but whom I could not name. I had, at 
the same time, an impression that I ought to have spoken 
to her, and to have inquired for some relative who had 



LOCAL ASSOCIATION. OV 

lately been my patient ; but, notwithstanding repeated 
efforts, I could not recognise her, and passed on. Some 
time after, in passing along the road a few miles from 
town, my eye caught a cottage, to which I had been 
taken about six months before, to see a gentleman who 
had been carried into it in a state of insensibility, in con- 
sequence of being thrown from a gig. The sight of the 
cottage instantly recalled the accident, and the gentle- 
man who was the subject of it ; and, at the same instant, 
the impression that the lady, whom I had passed in the 
manner now mentioned, was his wife. In this case no 
recollection was excited by the sight of the lady, even 
after repeated and anxious attempts ; and I believe I 
should not have recognised the patient himself, had he 
been along with her ; whereas the whole was recalled in 
an instant by the sight of the cottage. Similar illustra- 
tions must have occurred to every one. We meet a 
person in the street, who stops and speaks to us ; but we 
cannot recognise him. We are unwilling to tell him so, 
and walk along with him, conversing on various topics ; 
at length he makes an allusion to some person or some 
circumstance, by means of which we instantly recollect 
who he is, and where we met with him. On the same 
principle, when we are endeavouring to remind a person 
of a transaction which he has forgotten, and which we 
are anxious to call to his recollection, we mention vari- 
ous circumstances connected with it, until at length we 
mention one which, by association, instantly brings the 
whole distinctly before him. There are even facts which 
seem to show that the impression recalled by local asso- 
ciation may affect the bodily organs. Van Swieten 
relates of himself, that he was passing a spot, where the 
dead body of a dog burst and produced such a stench as 
made him vomit ; and that, happening to pass the same 
spot some years after, he was affected by sickness and 
vomiting from the recollection. 

Finally, to the influence of local association we are to 



90 MEMORY. 

refer the impressions produced by the monuments of the 
illustrious dead ; the trophies of other times; the remains 
of Greece and Rome ; or by the visitation of spots dis- 
tinguished by illustrious deeds, as Thermopylae, Ban- 
nockburn, or Waterloo. " Far from me," says Dr. 
Johnson, " and from my friends, be such frigid philo- 
sophy, as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved, over 
any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, 
or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose pa- 
triotism would not gain force upon the plains of Marathon, 
or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins 
of Iona." 

III. Arbitrary or Fictitious Association. — This 
association is generally produced by a voluntary effort of 
the mind ; and the facts associated are not connected by 
any relation except what arises out of this effort. The 
process is exemplified in the connexion we establish be- 
tween something which we wish to remember and some- 
thing we are in no danger of forgetting ; as in the com- 
mon expedients of tying a thread about the finger, or 
making a knot on the pocket-handkerchief. A Roman, 
for the same purpose, turned the stone of his ring 
inwards towards the palm of his hand. There is an 
analogous expedient which most people probably have 
employed for enabling them to remember the names of 
persons. It consists in forming an association between 
the name to be remembered, and that of some intimate 
friend, or public character of the same name, which is 
familiar to us. The remarkable circumstance in these 
cases is, that, whatever difficulty a person may have in 
simply remembering a name, he never forgets who the 
individual was with whose name he formed the asso- 
ciation. 

On this principle have been founded various schemes 
of artificial memory. One of the most ancient consisted 
in associating the divisions of a discourse to be delivered, 



ARBITRARY ASSOCIATION. 91 

with the various apartments of a building ; and the lead- 
ing sentiments with articles of furniture. This is said 
to have been much practised by the ancient orators, and 
to have given rise to the phraseology, by which we speak 
of the divisions of a discourse, as the first place, the 
second place, &c. I have repeatedly made experiments 
on this method, in remembering the discourses of public 
speakers, and the effect is certainly astonishing; for, 
though it is many years since the experiments were 
made, I still find articles of furniture associated in the 
clearest manner with sentiments delivered by some of 
the speakers. Other systems of artificial memory are 
founded upon the same general principle, though the 
particular applications of it may vary, — and some of them 
are extremely absurd. One of the last which attracted 
notice in this country, was that of a G erman of the name 
of Feinagle, who delivered lectures on memory, to 
crowded and fashionable audiences, about the year 1809 
or 1810. A leading part of his system was the memory 
of dates, and it consisted in changing the figures in the 
date into the letters of the alphabet corresponding to 
them in number. These letters were then formed into 
a word to be in some way associated with the date to be 
remembered. One example which I happen to recollect, 
will be sufficient to illustrate the peculiarity of the sys- 
tem, and at the same time its efficiency for its purpose. 
Henry IV., king of England, was born in the year 1366. 
This date, changed into letters, gives mff, which are very 
easily formed into the word muff. The method is not 
so obvious of establishing with this a relation to Henry 
IV. " Henry IV.," says M. Feinagle, " is four hens, and 
we put them into the muff, one in each corner." No one, 
certainly, after healing this, is in any danger of for- 
getting the date of the birth of Henry IV. ; but whether 
the remembrance is worth such a process, is a separate 
question. 

It is unnecessary to enlarge upon the subject of 



92 MEMORY. 

arbitrary association, as the observation of every one will 
furnish numerous examples of it. There is one application 
of the principle, however, which deserves to be referred 
to in a more particular manner. I allude to the practice 
of commemorative rites, or periodical observances, for 
transmitting the remembrance of remarkable events. 
These are, in their nature, in general, entirely arbitrary ; 
or, if they have any analogy to the events, the relation 
is only figurative. But the influence of such celebrations 
is of the most extensive and most important kind. If 
the events, particularly, are of a very uncommon cha- 
racter, these rites remove any feeling of uncertainty 
which attaches to traditional testimony, when it has been 
transmitted through a long period of time, and conse- 
quently, through a great number of individuals. They 
carry us back, in one unbroken series, to the period of 
the events themselves, and to the individuals who were 
witnesses of them. 

The most important application of the principle, in 
the manner now referred to, is in those observances of 
religion which are intended to commemorate the events 
connected with the revelation of the Christian faith. 
The importance of this mode of transmission has not 
been sufficiently attended to by those, who have urged the 
insufficiency of human testimony to establish the truth 
of events which are at variance with the common course 
of nature. We have formerly alluded to one part of this 
sophism, and have stated the grounds on which we con- 
tend, that no objection to the credibility of these events 
can be founded upon our observation of what we call the 
course of nature. We have admitted, that a much higher 
species of evidence is required for them than would be 
required for events which correspond with our previous 
observation ; and this high and peculiar evidence is con- 
firmed in a striking manner by the periodical rites now 
referred to. By means of these we are freed entirely 
from every impression of the fallibility of testimony, and 



ARBITRARY ASSOCIATION. 93 

the possibility of the statements having been fabricated ; 
as we are conducted in one uninterrupted series, to the 
period when the events took place, and to the individuals 
who witnessed them. This will appear, if we state in a 
few words a hypothetical case. Let us conceive a person 
attempting to impose upon the world, by an account of 
some wonderful or miraculous event, which he alleges 
occurred 500 years ago. He, of course, exerts every 
possible ingenuity in fabricating documents, and framing 
the appearance of a chain of testimony in support of his 
statement. It is quite possible that he might thus 
deceive a considerable number of credulous persons ; and 
that others, who did not believe his statement, might 
yet find difficulty in proving its fallacy. But, if the 
report were farther to bear, that, ever since the occur- 
rence of the alleged event, it had been regularly and 
specially celebrated by a certain periodical observance, 
it is clear that this would bring the statement to the 
test of a fact open to examination, and that the fallacy 
of the whole would be instantly detected. 

On these principles it must appear, that the statements 
of the sacred writings, respecting miraculous events 
which are said to have occurred upwards of 1800 years 
ago, could not have been fabricated at any intermediate 
era during that period. It is unnecessary to state, how 
much more improbable it is, that they could have been 
fabricated at the very time and place in which they are 
said to have occurred, and in the midst of thousands who 
are said to have witnessed them, many of whom were 
deeply interested in detecting their fallacy. This part 
of the question is not connected with our present inquiry, 
but it is impossible to dismiss the subject without one 
reflection ; — that, if we are to proceed upon the prin- 
ciple of probabilities, we must balance fairly the proba- 
bilities of fabrication. If we do so, we hesitate not to 
assert, that the probability of the world being imposed 
upon, under all the circumstances now alluded to, is 



94 MEMORY. 

more at variance with our firm and unalterable expe- 
rience, than all that we are called upon to believe. 

It does not appear necessary to say much of that 
modification of memory which is called Conception. It 
is the recalling of a perception. If, for example, we 
have passed a person in the street, whose face we think 
we have seen, but without being able to recognise him, 
we can recall the impression of his countenance, and 
endeavour to recollect who he is. By a higher exercise 
of this faculty, a painter can draw from conception a 
landscape or a building, long after he has visited them, 
and even the portrait of a friend who is dead or absent, 
and whom he has not seen for a considerable time. By 
another modification of this power, we can embody into 
a conception a scene, a figure, or a transaction, which 
has been described to us by another. The vividness of 
our conception, in such cases, does not depend upon the 
accuracy or even the truth of the description, but upon 
the degree of liveliness with which it is given, or the 
intensity with which our attention is directed to it. Thus, 
it has been remarked, that we have a clearer conception 
of Don Quixote or Sancho, than of any characters in real 
history, unless they have been made familiar to us by 
paintings. The business of the novelist being to create 
his hero, he gives a more full and graphic delineation of 
him than the authentic historian finds it necessary to do : 
hence, the former begins his narrative by an impression 
made upon our conception; the latter disregards this, 
and proceeds at once to the facts which he has to address 
to our attention and memory. 

Conception, properly so called, or the recalling of a 
perception, does not appear to be necessarily connected 
with the impression of past time, but rather to be at first 
accompanied by a feeling of the present existence of the 
object. Connecting the impression with past time seems 
to be a distinct act of the mind ; and the conception may 



CONCEPTION. 95 

be so strong as, for the moment, almost to exclude all 
idea of the past. That degree of conception by which a 
painter can take the likeness of a friend who has been 
long dead, or delineate a scene visited at a remote 
period, must amount to something of this nature. In 
the active and healthy state of the other faculties of the 
mind, this impression is but momentary, being almost 
instantly corrected by impressions received from the 
external world. We shall afterwards have occasion to 
refer to a remarkable state of mind in which it is not 
thus corrected, but in which objects, which exist only in 
conception, are believed to have a real and present 
existence. On this condition depend many of the 
peculiarities of dreaming, insanity, and spectral illusions. 

Different individuals possess the faculty of conception 
in different degrees ; and, connected with the degree of 
it, there is generally a corresponding talent for lively 
description. The faculty itself, or the formation of the 
conception, probably follows nearly the same laws with 
memory, and depends, in a great measure, upon the 
degree of attention which was originally directed to the 
objects. This, again, is influenced, as in the case of 
memory, partly by the general activity of mind of the 
individual, and partly by his particular habits and pur- 
suits. — Thus, as formerly remarked, in describing the 
features of a country which they have passed over, one 
person will give a clear and lively description of its 
general characters, so as to place it, as it were, before 
you ; a second will describe chiefly its pastures and pro- 
duce ; a third may include both ; while a fourth may not 
be able to give an intelligible account of any one feature 
of the scene. 

There are particular situations in which conception 
is apt to be most intensely brought into exercise, espe- 
cially those of seclusion, and the absence of all external 
impressions. A beautiful example of this occurs in the 
life of Niebuhr, the celebrated Danish traveller. When 



old, blind, and so infirm that he was able only to be 
carried from his bed to his chair, he used to describe to 
his friends the scenes which he had visited in his early 
days, with wonderful minuteness and vivacity. When 
they expressed their astonishment, he told them, " that 
as he lay in bed, all visible objects shut out, the pictures 
of what he had seen in the East continually floated before 
his mind's eye, so that it was no wonder he could speak 
of them as if he had seen them yesterday. With like 
vividness, the deep intense sky of Asia, with its brilliant 
and twinkling host of stars, which he had so often gazed 
at by night, or its lofty vault of blue by day, was reflected, 
in the hours of stillness and darkness, on his inmost 
soul." This may, perhaps, be considered as an example 
of what we may call the highest degree of healthy con- 
ception. Something a little beyond this leads to that 
state on which depends the theory of apparitions or 
spectral illusions. 

In concluding this brief allusion to the subject of con- 
ception, I shall only add the following example of 
another application of this mental process. In the 
church of St. Peter, at Cologne, the altar-piece is a 
large and valuable picture by Rubens, representing the 
martyrdom of the apostle. This picture having been 
carried away by the French in 1805, to the great regret 
of the inhabitants, a painter of that city undertook to 
make a copy of it from recollection ; and succeeded in 
doing so in such a manner, that the most delicate tints 
of the original are preserved with the most minute 
accuracy. The original painting has now been restored, 
but the copy is preserved along with it ; and, even when 
they are rigidly compared, it is scarcely possible to dis- 
tinguish the one from the other. I am not aware that 
this remarkable anecdote has been recorded by any tra- 
veller ; I am indebted for it to my friend the late 
Dr. Duncan of the university of Edinburgh, who heard 
it on the spot and saw both the pictures. 



ITS CULTUEE AND IMPROVEMENT. 97 



OF THE CULTUEE AND IMPEOVEMENT OF ATTENTION AND 
MEMOET. 

The facts "which have been briefly referred to, in 
regard to the phenomena of memory, lead to some 
remarks of a practical nature. These relate to the im- 
provement of attention and memory in persons of adult 
years ; and the cultivation of these powers in the educa- 
tion of the young. 

The rules from which benefit is to be derived for the 
improvement of memory, in persons of adult years, may 
be chiefly referred to the following heads : — 

I. The cultivation of habits of attention, or of intense 
application of the mind to whatever is at the time its 
more immediate object of pursuit. 

II. Habits of correct association. These consist in 
the constant practice of tracing the relation between new 
facts and others with which we are previously acquainted ; 
and of referring facts to principles which they are cal- 
culated to illustrate, or to opinions which they tend to 
confirm, modify, or overturn. This is the operation of 
what we call a reflecting mind ; and information, which 
is thus fully contemplated and associated, is not likely 
to be forgotten. 

III. Intimately connected with both the former 
rules, is the cultivation of that active inquiring state of 
mind, which is always on the watch for knowledge, from 
every source that comes within its reach, either in 
reading, conversation, or observation. Such a mind is 
every ready to refer newly-acquired knowledge to its 
proper place. It is thus easily retained, and made to 
yield those conclusions which are legitimately deduced 
from it. 

H 



IV. Method, — that is, the pursuit of particular sub - 
jects, upon a regular and connected plan. 

All these principles are opposed to that listless inactive 
state of mind, -which is occupied with trifles, or with its 
own waking dreams ; or which seeks only amusement in 
desultory pursuits which pass away and are forgotten. 
They are likewise opposed to habits of irregular and 
desultory application, which even intellectual persons are 
apt to fall into, by means of which the mind loses the 
train of investigation or of argument, in which it had 
made some progress, and may not be able to recover it 
in a satisfactory manner. Nothing, indeed, appears to 
contribute more to progress in any intellectual pursuit, 
than the practice of keeping one subject habitually before 
the mind, and of daily contributing something towards 
the prosecution of it. 

V. Attention and memory are greatly promoted by 
writing on a subject, especially if it be done in a distinct 
and systematic manner; — also, by conversing on the 
subject, — and by instructing others in it. These exer- 
cises, indeed, may perhaps be considered as aids rather 
to attention, or a clear comprehension of the subject, 
than to memory; for in regard to memory, it is re- 
markable how much its power is increased in many 
instances, by that kind of exercise by which it is alone 
trusted to, without any aid from writing. I have known 
medical men, for example, who had to recollect numerous 
appointments, do so with perfect accuracy by trusting to 
memory, to which they had habituated themselves, but 
blunder continually when they kept a written memoran- 
dum. The mental power, which is in some cases acquired 
by constant and intense exercise, is indeed astonishing. 
Bloom field the poet relates of himself, that nearly 
one-half of his poem, the "Farmer's Boy," was com- 
posed, revised, and corrected, without writing a word 



ITS CtJLTUEE AND IMPEOVEMENT. 99 

of it, while he was at work with other shoe-makers in 
a garret. 

Similar rules apply to the cultivation of these powers 
in young persons. They may be chiefly referred to the 
following heads : — 

I. Exciting constant attention and constant interest. 
For this purpose, it is of essential importance, that what- 
ever reading is presented to children, shall be of a kind 
which they understand, and in which they can feel in- 
terest and pleasure. This will be greatly promoted by 
directing their attention to the meaning of words, and 
explaining them by familiar illustrations. The practice 
of setting tasks as punishments cannot be alluded to in 
terms adequate to its extreme absurdity. On this ground 
also, it must be considered as a great error in education 
to make children attempt too much, that is, more than 
they can do with close attention. When a sense of 
weariness or mental languor takes places, what follows is 
not merely loss of time, but an important injury is done 
to the mental constitution ; and it appears to be of the 
utmost consequence, that the time of children should be 
as much as possible divided between intense attention 
and active recreation. By a shorter time occupied in 
this manner, not only is more progress made than by a 
longer, with listless and imperfect application; but an 
important part of mental discipline is secured, which by 
the other method is entirely neglected. Similar obser- 
vations, indeed, apply to persons at every period of life ; 
and I am fully persuaded that progress in any intellectual 
pursuit does not depend so much upon protracted labo- 
rious study, as on the practice of keeping the subject 
habitually before the mind, and on the intensity of mental 
application. 

II. Cultivating habits of association, by pointing out 

h 2 



100 MEMORY. 

to children the relation of facts to each other, and the 
manner in which they illustrate one another, or lead to 
some general conclusion. By directing them in this 
manner, from any particular fact, to recollect similar or 
analogous facts which had formerly passed before them, 
they will be trained at once to attention, memory, and 
reflection. 

III. Cultivating that general activity of mind, which 
seeks for information on every subject that comes in its 
way. The most common and trivial occurrences may 
thus be made the source of mental improvement ; as the 
habits of animals ; the natural history of the articles that 
are constantly before us, in clothes, food, furniture ; 
articles of manufacture from a watch to a pin; the 
action of the mechanic powers, as illustrated by various 
contrivances in constant use ; the structure of a leaf, a 
flower, a tree. To those farther advanced, a constant 
source of interest may be found in history, geography, and 
memoirs of eminent individuals; and in the leading 
principles of natural history, natural philosophy, and 
chemistry. Every new subject of thought, which is thus 
presented to the mind, is both valuable in itself, by the 
powers which it calls into action, and by proving a 
nucleus to which new facts may be afterwards associated. 

IV. Memory and attention are greatly promoted in 
young persons by writing ; provided it be done, not 
merely in the form of extracts from books, but in their 
own words ; in history, for example, in the form of chro- 
nological tables ; and on other subjects in clear and 
distinct abstracts, neatly and methodically written. 

V. These exercises of mind are greatly promoted in 
the young by verbal communication. Hence the im- 
portance of frequent examination. The teacher is thereby 
enabled, not only to ascertain their progress, but to 



ITS CULTUEE AND IMPK0VE1IENT. 101 

explain what they do not understand ; to impress upon 
them important points to which they may not have 
sufficiently attended ; to excite attention, inquiry, and 
interest ; and so to cultivate the habits of association 
and reflection. These, in fact, ought to be the objects 
to be kept in view in all such exercises, as of much 
greater moment than the mere putting of questions. On 
the same principle, a most useful exercise for young 
persons is, instructing others still younger, on subjects 
which they have themselves recently acquired. 

VI. In the cultivation of the mental powers in the 
young, a point of essential importance is the selection 
of proper and worthy objects of acquirement. In the 
general conduct of education in this respect, the chief 
error appears, in general, to have been, devoting too 
much time and attention, in females, to superficial 
accomplishments, and in males, to mere acquirement in 
languages and mathematics : and the great object to be 
kept in view, from the very earliest period, is, the para- 
mount importance of the actual knowledge of things on 
subjects of real utility ; the actual cultivation of habits of 
observation, inquiry, association, and induction ; and, as 
the foundation of the whole, the habit of steady and con- 
tinued attention. The cultivation of these mental habits 
is of greater value by far than any one acquirement 
whatever, for they are the basis of all future improvement, 
and are calculated to give a tone to the whole character. 

In this brief outline I have said nothing on the sub- 
ject of religious instruction ; for the same rules apply to 
it as to branches of inferior importance, in as far as it is 
to be considered as engaging the intellectual powers. 
The chief error here appears to be the practice of trusting 
too much to the mere repetition of tasks or catechisms, 
without that kind of direct personal instruction which is 
calculated to interest the attention, to fix the truths upon 



102 MEMOEY. 

the understanding, and to cultivate the habits of asso- 
ciation and reflection. A leading branch of this subject, 
the culture of the moral feelings, does not belong to our 
present inquiry ; but it is impossible to mention it without 
alluding to its intense interest, even in a philosophical 
point of view. One of the most striking phenomena, 
certainly, in the science of the human mind, is the high 
degree of culture of which the moral powers are suscep- 
tible, even in the infant mind, long before the powers of 
intellect are developed for the investigation of truth. 

In reference to the whole science of education, nothing 
is of greater importance than the principle of association, 
which, we have formerly seen, exerts a most extensive 
influence, not in the remembrance of facts alone, but in 
perpetuating and recalling mental emotions. We take a 
very limited view, indeed, of this great subject, if we 
confine education entirely or chiefly to the acquisition 
of knowledge, or even to the culture of the intellectual 
powers. That system is deficient in its most essential 
part, which does not carry on, along with these, a careful 
and habitual culture and regulation of the passions and 
emotions of the young, — their attachments and antipa- 
thies, — their hopes and fears, — their joys and sorrows ; 
— the cultivation of the social and benevolent affec- 
tions : — the habit of repressing selfishness and bearing 
inconveniences and disappointments without murmuring ; 
— a disposition to candour and ingenuousness, and a 
sacred regard to truth. Their future character, as social 
and moral beings, will be greatly influenced by the 
manner in which they are taught from an early period 
to regulate their emotions, by directing them to adequate 
and worthy objects, — and controlling them by the great 
principles of wisdom and virtue. In this important 
process the principle of association exerts a most exten- 
sive influence. The stern lessons of morality, and even 
the sublime truths of religion, may be rigidly impressed 
upon the minds of the young, and may, in after-life, 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. 103 

recur from time to time as a mere matter of remem- 
brance ; but many must have experienced how different 
is the impression, when thej recur in close association 
with a father's affection and a mother's tenderness, — 
with the lively recollection of a home, where the kindest 
sympathies of the human heart shed around the domestic 
circle all that is lovely in life, while a mild and consistent 
piety habitually pointed the way to a life which is to come. 

OF THE INFLUENCE OF DISEASE UPON ATTENTION AND 
MEMOKY. 

The preceding imperfect outline, of the subject of me- 
mory, naturally leads us briefly to investigate the manner 
in which this function is impaired in connection with 
bodily disease. This takes place chiefly from injuries of 
the head, affections of the brain, fever, and; diseases of 
extreme debility. Similar effects arise from intempe- 
rance and other habits of dissipation. Our present pur- 
pose, however, is, not to investigate the peculiar effects 
of these various causes, but to endeavour to trace the 
manner in which attention and memory, and we may 
include perception, are affected by any or all of them. 

The first mental function which is impaired by bodily 
disease is usually the power of attention; this we see 
illustrated in all febrile affections. The patient, in the 
early or milder stages, is incapable of fixing his mind 
upon anything that requires much attention, of following 
out an argument, or of transacting business which calls 
for much thought or consideration. He is acute and 
intelligent as to all common occurrences, and shows no 
want of recollection, or of the power of reasoning, when 
his attention is excited ; but he feels it an exertion that 
is painful to him. In a higher degree of this condition, 
he is still intelligent as to what is said or done at the 
time, or in recognising persons ; but in a short time for- 
gets everything in regard to the person or the occurrence. 
He is incapable of that degree of attention which is 



104 3IEMOKY. 

necessary for memory, though the powers of perception 
are entire. In the next stage he becomes incapable of 
receiving the full impression from external things ; and, 
in consequence of this, he mistakes the objects of his own 
thoughts for realities. This is delirium, and there are 
various degrees of it. In some cases the attention of 
the patient can be roused for a time, and directed to the 
true relations of external things, though he relapses into 
his delirious impressions when he is left undisturbed ; in 
others, the false impression is constant, and cannot be 
corrected by any effort which is made to direct the atten- 
tion ; and in a third modification of this remarkable 
condition, he mixes up his hallucinations with external 
impressions in a most singular manner. He is still 
capable, however, of describing his impressions, that is, 
of talking so as to be understood, though what he speaks 
of relates only to his erroneous conception, or mere 
bodily feelings. In the next stage, he either does not 
attempt to express himself at all, or is entirely unintelli- 
gible. He is now cut off from communication with 
external things, and with other sentient beings; and the 
highest degree of this is what we call coma, or stupor, 
which resembles profound sleep. 

This description refers chiefly to the gradations in the 
state of the mental functions which we observe in con- 
tinued fever. It is particularly interesting to trace them 
in this disease, because we see the various grades passing 
into one another, and thus showing, in a connected 
series, the leading peculiarities, which, in other affections, 
we have to contemplate separately. These peculiarities 
may be chiefly referred to the following heads : — 

I. A state in which the attention cannot be steadily 
directed to a long and connected train of thought, or to 
anything requiring a continued effort of mind. This 
takes place, as already stated, in the earlier stages of all 
febrile diseases. It likewise occurs in connection with 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. 105 

the debility which succeeds acute diseases ; in persons 
broken down b y intemperance ; and in the first approaches 
of old age. It is also often observed in a remarkable 
degree in connection with a disordered state of the stomach. 

II. A state in which the impression made by external 
things is not sufficient to produce remembrance, though 
there appears to be, at the time, a perfect perception. 
A person so affected understands what is said to him, and 
answers correctly, but very soon forgets what has passed ; 
he knows a friend, and is happy to see him, but in a 
short time forgets the occurrence. This is met with in 
a more advanced state of febrile diseases, in the higher 
degrees of the condition which results from habitual 
intemperance, and in the more advanced periods of old 
age. It also occurs in diseases of the brain, and in cases 
of injuries of the head. A lady, whom I attended some 
years ago, on account of an injury produced by a fall 
from a horse, lay, for the first week, in a state of perfect 
stupor; she then gradually revived, so as to be sensible 
to external impressions, and after some time to recognise 
her friends. But afterwards, when she was entirely 
recovered, she had no recollection of this period of her 
convalescence, or of having seen various friends who then 
visited her, though, at the time, she recognised them, 
conversed with them sensibly and was very happy to see 
them. 

III. The third condition is that in which external 
impressions are either not perceived at all, or are per- 
ceived in a manner which cannot convey any distinct 
notion of their relations to the mind. On this account 
the conceptions or trains of ideas existing in the mind 
itself are believed to be realities. This remarkable con- 
dition belongs properly to another part of our subject. 
It occurs in various forms of delirium, and constitutes the 
peculiar characters of insanity and dreaming. The ideas 



106 MEMORY. 

or conceptions which occupy the mind in this condition 
are various. They may be trains of thought excited by 
some passing event, or some bodily sensation ; and fre- 
quently the patient repeats something -which is said in 
his hearing, and then branches off into some other train 
to which that has given rise. In other cases, the im- 
pression is one which has been brought up by some old 
associations, even relating to things which the person 
when in health had not recollected. 

It is rarely that we have an opportunity of knowing 
precisely the state of the mental operations during fever, 
and I therefore find considerable interest in a statement 
which I have received from a gentleman, whom I at- 
tended along with Dr. Andrew Combe. His case was 
one of protracted fever, which went on for about six 
weeks : and it came on after much excitement and in- 
tense application of mind, in bringing to perfection a 
piece of complicated machinery. During the first fort- 
night the febrile symptoms were mild, but with much 
complaint of headach ; he lay like a person unwilling to 
be disturbed, and was little inclined to speak, but was 
quite sensible, and answered correctly whenever he was 
spoken to. This was succeeded by a period of restless- 
ness, in which he was more inclined to talk, and often 
wished to get out of bed ; he now T began to have false 
perceptions, and paroxysms of delirium, with considerable 
excitement, and these continued during the remainder 
of the attack, — but with intervals of several hours, in 
which he was perfectly sensible. During these he was 
able to converse correctly for some time; but it was 
found that conversation continued beyond a certain 
time, uniformly brought back the delirium. The account 
which he gives of his mental feelings during these two 
different periods of his illness, is curious and interesting. 
Of the first, namely, that during which he was quite 
sensible, he says he can give no intelligible account, — it 
was deep, dark, hideous, but indefinite, and he looks 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. 107 

back upon it with horror. He has no recollection of 
suffering any bodily pain, but seemed to suffer the most 
excruciating mental agony, which he cannot describe. 
He remembers, in reference to this period, no persons, 
no passing of time, no distinction of night and day, no 
sleeping or waking, hearing, seeing, smelling, or tasting 
anything ; he has only the impression of a long, dull, 
horrible, but indescribable dream ; and his own convic- 
tion is, that he was, at this time, altogether insensible to 
external objects. " A state of great mental activity 
followed, — great, but not unpleasant excitement. All 
sorts of wild, but unconnected, fantasies successively 
occupied my mind. Sometimes my thoughts ran upon 
things which had formerly interested me ; and at others, 
on things of which I had never dreamt. The distin- 
guishing character of this period was, that thoughts were 
realities, as is the case in dreaming. Scenes and specu- 
lations of all kinds passed in rapid succession through 
my mind, but they had all the force and vigour of actual 
existence. I did not think of doing a thing, but did it. 
Persons, periods, places, and things, the most incompa- 
tible with each other, were all brought together without 
a shadow of difficulty ; and when together, without ex- 
citing the idea of their own inconsistency. For some of 
these notions I can easily account, as being consistent 
with the general current of my thoughts ; for others I 
can conceive no imaginable cause ; but my recollection 
of many of the scenes is even now more vivid than of 
many things that have really happened to me." He 
then describes a variety of the scenes which passed 
before him, in a manner strictly analogous to dreaming. 
The first was a fair in a village in Derbyshire, where he 
had resided when a boy at school ; and the Duke of 
"Wellington was there, and appeared in the act of open- 
ing the gate of the churchyard. This was succeeded by 
a shooting excursion; this by extensive transactions 
with soldiers, in which he was concerned in exertions for 



108 MEMORY. 

improving their condition. Then he was engaged in a 
duel; and finally, he was concerned in an extensive 
brewery, of which he was appointed manager ; and so 
strong was this impression, that the belief of its reality . 
was not removed after he was far advanced in conva- 
lescence. One point is deserving of notice, — that he 
seemed to have lost all idea of personal identity. Thus, 
in the course of his illness, he had a sore ear, which 
appeared to produce considerable uneasiness ; but he had 
no idea that it was his own ear, — he thought it belonged 
to a soldier boy. 

IV. A remarkable circumstance in many of the cases 
referred to under the preceding heads is, that, along 
with a greater or less degree of incapacity of attending 
to present objects, there is often a wonderful activity of 
mind in. regard to old impressions, and even the renewal 
of recollections which had been entirely lost. Of this 
kind there are various remarkable examples on record, 
especially in regard to the memory of languages. A 
man, mentioned by Mr. Abernethy, had been born in 
France, but had spent the greater part of Ins life in 
England, and, for many years, had entirely lost the habit 
of speaking French. But when under the care of Mr. 
Abernethy, on account of the effects of an injury of the 
head, he always spoke French. A similar case occurred 
in St. Thomas's Hospital, of a man who was in a state 
of stupor in consequence of an injury of the head. On 
his partial recovery he spoke a language which nobody 
in the hospital understood, but which was soon ascer- 
tained to be Welsh. It was then discovered that he 
had been thirty years absent from Wales, and, before 
the accident, had entirely forgotten his native language. 
On his perfect recovery, he completely forgot his Welsh 
again, and recovered the English language. A lady, 
mentioned by Dr. Prichard, when in a state of delirium, 
spoke a language which nobody about her understood ; 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. 109 

but which was also discovered to be Welsh. None of 
her friends could form any conception of the manner in 
which she had become acquainted with that language ; 
but after much inquiry it was discovered, that in her 
childhood she had a nurse, a native of a district on the 
coast of Brittany, the dialect of which is closely ana- 
logous to the Welsh. The lady had at that time leamt 
a good deal of this dialect, but had entirely forgotten it 
for many years before this attack of fever. The case 
has also been communicated to me of a lady who was a 
native of Germany, but married to an English gentle- 
man, and for a considerable time accustomed to speak 
the English language. During an illness, of the nature 
of which I am not informed, she always spoke German, 
and could not make herself understood by her English 
attendants, except when her husband acted as inter- 
preter. A woman who was a native of the Highlands, 
but accustomed to speak English, was under the care of 
Dr. Mackintosh of this city, on account of an attack of 
apoplexy. She was so far recovered as to look around her 
with an appearance of intelligence, but Dr. M. could not 
make her comprehend anything he said to her, or answer 
the most simple question. He then desired one of her 
friends to address her in Gaelic, when she immediately 
answered with readiness and fluency. An Italian gen- 
tleman, mentioned by Dr. Bush, who died of the yellow 
fever in New York, in the beginning of his illness spoke 
English, in the middle of it French, but on the day of 
his death spoke only Italian. A Lutheran clergyman of 
Philadelphia informed Dr. Bush, that Germans and 
Swedes, of whom he had a considerable number in his 
congregation, when near death always prayed in their 
native languages, though some of them, he was confident, 
had not spoken these languages for fifty or sixty years. 

A case has been related to me of a boy, who at the 
age of four, received a fracture of the skull, for which he 
underwent the operation of trepan. He was at the time 



110 MEMORY. 

in a state of perfect stupor, and, after his recovery, 
retained no recollection either of the accident or the 
operation. At the age of fifteen, during the delirium of 
a fever, he gave his mother an account of the operation, 
and the persons who were present at it, with a correct 
description of their dress, and other minute particulars. 
He had never been observed to allude to it before, and 
no means were known by which he could have acquired 
the circumstances which he mentioned. An eminent 
medical friend informs me, that, during fever, without 
any delirium, he, on one occasion, repeated long passages 
from Homer, which he could not do when in health; 
and another friend has mentioned to me, that in a similar 
situation, there were represented to his mind, in a most 
vivid manner, the circumstances of a journey in the 
Highlands, which he had performed long before, in- 
cluding many minute particulars which he had entirely 
forgotten. A gentleman who was under the care of Dr. 
Johnston of Kirkaldy, when in a state of slight delirium, 
connected with erysipelas of the head, sung with great 
precision some Gaelic songs. In health he had no kind 
of turn for music ; and though in his youth he had some 
knowledge of the Gaelic language, he had been for many 
years entirely unaccustomed to it, and his knowledge of 
the language was supposed to be nearly or altogether lost. 
An ignorant servant girl, mentioned by Coleridge, during 
the delirium of a fever, repeated passages from theolo- 
gical works in Latin, Greek, and Rabbinical Hebrew, 
which, being taken down and traced to the works from 
which they were derived, were found to be repeated with 
perfect accuracy. It turned out that she had been ser- 
vant to a clergyman, a man of much learning and peculiar 
habits, who was in the practice of walking backwards and 
forwards, along a passage in his house which led to the 
kitchen, and there reading aloud his favourite authors. 

In regard to the memory of languages as influenced 
by affections of the brain, a condition occurs, the reverse 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. Ill 

of that now mentioned, and presenting some singular 
phenomena ; the cause of the difference is entirely 
beyond our researches. The late Dr. Gregory was 
accustomed to mention in his lectures the case of a cler- 
gyman, who, while labouring under a disease of the 
brain, spoke nothing but Hebrew, which was ascertained 
to be the last language that he had acquired. An English 
lady, mentioned by Dr. Prichard, in recovering from an 
apoplectic attack, always spoke to her attendants in 
French, and had actually lost the knowledge of the 
English language. This continued about a month. 

V. The last condition is the state of stupor or coma, 
in which the mind is entirely cut off from intercourse 
with the external world. This occurs in the worst states 
of fever, — in various diseases of the brain and injuries of 
the head ; and the same condition takes place, from a 
very different cause, in the state of fainting. In such 
cases, there is seldom any recollection of mental impres- 
sions ; yet there are facts which tend to show, that the 
patient is not in such a state of total insensibility to 
external things as his appearance would indicate. A 
gentleman, whom I attended in a state of perfect apo- 
plexy, from which he did not recover, was frequently 
observed to adjust his nightcap with the utmost care, 
when it got into an uncomfortable state ; first pulling it 
down over his eyes, and then turning up the front of it 
in the most exact manner. Another gentleman, who 
was lying in a state of perfect insensibility from extensive 
disease of the brain, was frequently observed, even on 
the day before his death, to take down a repeating watch 
from a little bag at the head of his bed, put it close to 
his ear and make it strike the hour, and then replace it 
in the bag with the greatest precision. Another, whom 
I saw in a state of profound apoplexy, from which he 
recovered, had a perfect recollection of what took place 
during the attack, and mentioned many things which had 



112 MEMOEY. 

been said in his hearing, when he was supposed to be in 
a state of perfect unconsciousness. A lady, on recovering 
from a similar state, said she had been asleep and 
dreaming, and mentioned what she had dreamt about. 
Facts are wanting on this curious subject ; but there can 
be little doubt, that many of the stories related of things 
seen by persons in a state of trance, are referable to this 
head, and that their visions consisted of the conceptions 
of the mind itself, believed for the time to be real, in a 
manner analogous to dreaming. That such impressions 
should not be more frequently remembered, in the 
ordinary cases of stupor, probably arises from the higher 
degree and greater permanency of the affection than that 
which occurs in sleep. For we have reason to believe, 
that dreams which are remembered occur only in imper- 
fect sleep, and that after very profound sleep we do not 
remember any mental impressions, though we have 
satisfactory proof that they exist. Thus, a person will 
talk in his sleep so as to be distinctly understood by 
another, but without having the least recollection of the 
mental impression which led to what he said. 

In the preceding observations, I have referred chiefly 
to the temporary influence of disease, in impairing or 
suspending the powers of attention and memory in regard 
to ^recent impressions. But there is a part of the sub- 
ject quite distinct from this, namely, the effect of certain 
diseases in obliterating impressions formerly received 
and long retained. The higher degrees of this condition 
amount to that state which we call idiotism, and this we 
find supervening both upon affections of the brain and 
protracted febrile diseases. The condition so produced 
is sometimes permanent, but frequently is recovered 
from ; and recovery takes place in some cases gradually, 
in others very suddenly. A man mentioned by Willis, 
on recovering from a putrid fever, was found to have so 
entirely lost his mental faculties, that he knew nobody, 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. 113 

remembered nothing, and understood nothing; "vix supra 
brutum saperet." He continued in this state for two 
months, and then gradually recovered. Some years ago I 
attended a young man, who, on recovering from a tedious 
fever, was found to be in a state bordering upon idiotism : 
and this continued even after his bodily health was 
entirely restored. In this state he was taken to the 
country, where he gradually recovered after several 
months. A gentleman mentioned by Wepfer, on coming 
out of an apoplectic attack, was found to know nobody, 
and remember nothing. After several weeks, he began 
to know his friends, to remember words, to repeat the 
Lord's prayer, and to read a few words of Latin, rather 
than German, which was his own language. When 
urged to read more than a few words at a time, he said 
that he formerly understood these things, but now did 
not. After some time, he began to pay more attention 
to what was passing around him ; but, while thus making 
slight and gradual progress he was, after a few months, 
suddenly cut off by an attack of apoplexy. 

The sudden recoveries from this condition of the 
mental powers are still more remarkable. Dr. Prichard, 
on the authority of the late Dr. Kush of Philadelphia, 
mentions an American student, a person of considerable 
attainments, who, on recovering from a fever, was found 
to have lost all his acquired knowledge. When his health 
was restored, he began to apply to the Latin Grammar ; 
had passed through the elementary parts and was 
beginning to construe, when, one day, on making a 
strong effort to recollect a part of his lesson, the whole 
of his lost impressions suddenly returned to his mind, 
and he found himself at once in possession of all his 
former acquirements. 

In slighter injuries of the head, accompanied by loss 

of recollection, we observe the circumstances gradually 

recalled in a very singular manner. Some years ago I 

saw a boy who had fallen from a wall, and struck his 

i 



114 MEMORY. 

head against a stone which lay at the foot of it. He 
was carried home in a state of insensibility, from which 
he soon recovered, but without any recollection of the 
accident. He felt that his head was hurt, but he had no 
idea how he had received the injury. After a short time 
he recollected that he had struck his head against a stone, 
but had no recollection how he had come to do so. After 
another interval, he recollected that he had been on the 
top of a wall, and had fallen from it and struck against 
the stone, but could not remember where the wall was. 
After some time longer, he recovered the recollection of 
all the circumstances. Dr. Prichard mentions a gentle- 
man, who suffered a severe injury by a fall from his 
horse, and on his recovery had no recollection of anything 
relating to the accident, or for some time before it. A 
considerable time elapsed before his recollection of it 
began to return, and it was only as he repeatedly rode 
over the country where the accident had happened, that 
the sight of the various objects gradually recalled the 
circumstances of the journey in which it occurred, and of 
the accident itself. On the other hand, singular examples 
occur, on recovering from comatose affections, of the 
sudden revival of subjects of thought which had been in 
the mind at the time of the attack. A lady, whose case 
has been communicated to me, was seized with an apo- 
plectic attack while engaged at cards. The seizure took 
place on a Thursday evening — she lay in a state of 
stupor on Friday and Saturday, and recovered her con- 
sciousness rather suddenly on Sunday. The first words 
she then uttered were by asking, " what is trump." 

A still more remarkable phenomenon, connected with 
cases of this kind, occurs in some instances in which 
there is perfect intelligence in regard to recent circum- 
stances, but an obliteration of former impressions. Of 
this I have received the following striking example 
from an eminent medical friend. A respectable surgeon 
was thrown from his horse while riding in the country, 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. 115 

and was earned into an adjoining house in a state of 
insensibility. From this he very soon recovered, described 
the accident distinctly, and gave minute directions in 
regard to his own treatment. In particular, he requested 
that he might be immediately bled ; the bleeding was 
repeated, at his own desire, after two hours ; and he 
conversed correctly regarding his feelings and the state 
of his pulse with the medical man who visited him. 
In the evening he was so much recovered as to be able 
to be removed to his own house, and a medical friend 
accompanied him in the carriage. As they drew near 
home, the latter made some observation, respecting 
precautions calculated to prevent unnecessary alarm to 
the wife and family of the patient, when, to his astonish- 
ment he discovered that his friend had lost all idea of 
having either a wife or children. This condition con- 
tinued during the following day, and it was only on the 
third day, and after farther bleeding, that the circum- 
stances of his past life began to recur to his mind. On 
the other hand, remarkable instances occur of the per- 
manence of impressions made upon the mind previously 
to such injuries, though the mental faculties are entirely 
obscured as to all subsequent impressions. An affecting 
example is mentioned by Dr. Conolly ; — a young clergy- 
man, when on the point of being married, suffered an 
injury of the head by which his understanding was 
entirely and permanently deranged. He lived in this 
condition till the age of eighty ; and to the last talked of 
nothing but his approaching wedding, and expressed 
impatience for the arrival of the happy day. 

It is chiefly in connection with attacks of an apoplectic 
nature, that we meet with singular examples of loss of 
memoiy on particular topics, or extending only to a par- 
ticular period. One of the most common is loss of the 
memory of words, or of names, while the patient retains 
a correct idea of things and persons. The late Dr. 
Gregory used to mention a lady, who, after an apoplectic 



116 MEMORY. 

attack, recovered correctly her ideas of things, hut could 
not name them. In giving directions respecting family- 
matters, she was quite distinct as to what she wished to 
he done, hut could make herself understood only by 
going through the house, and pointing to the various 
articles. A gentleman whom I attended some years ago, 
after recovering from an apoplectic attack, knew his 
friends perfectly, but could not name them. Walking 
one day in the street, he met a gentleman to whom he 
was very anxious to communicate something respecting a 
mutual friend. After various ineffectual attempts to 
make him understand whom he meant, he at last seized 
him by the arm, and dragged him through several streets 
to the house of the gentleman of whom he was speaking, 
and pointed to the name-plate on the door. 

A singular modification of this condition has been 
related to me. The gentleman to whom it referred, 
could not be made to understand the name of an object 
if it was spoken to him, but understood it perfectly when 
it was written. His mental faculties were so entire, that 
he was engaged in most extensive agricultural concerns, 
and he managed them with perfect correctness by means 
of a remarkable contrivance. He kept before him in the 
room where he transacted business, a list of the words 
which were most apt to occur in his intercourse with his 
workmen. When one of these wished to communicate 
with him on any subject, he first heard what the work- 
man had to say, but without understanding him farther 
than simply to catch the words. He then turned to the 
words in his written list, and whenever they met his eye 
he understood them perfectly. These particulars I had 
from his son, a gentleman of high intelligence. Another 
frequent modification consists in putting one name for 
another, but always using the words in the same sense. 
An example of this also occurred in the gentleman last 
mentioned. He uniformly called his snuffbox a hogs- 
head, and the association which led to this appeared to 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. 117 

be obvious. In the early part of his life he had been in 
Virginia, and connected with the trade in tobacco ; so 
that the transition from snuff to tobacco, and from 
tobacco to a hogshead, seemed to be natural. Another 
gentleman affected in this manner, when he wanted coals 
put on his fire, always called for paper, and when he 
wanted paper, called for coals; and these words he 
always used in the same manner. In other cases, the 
patient seems to invent names, using words which to a 
stranger are quite unintelligible ; but he always uses 
them in the same sense, and his immediate attendants 
come to understand what he means by them. 

A gentleman upwards of eighty years of age, whom I 
attended some years ago on account of an attack in his 
head, lost almost entirely the use of the English lan- 
guage, and expressed himself in a dialect which seemed 
to be a mixture of French, Italian, Spanish, German, 
and Turkish, with many words which were entirely with- 
out meaning. He had been acquainted with these lan- 
guages in the early part of his life, when in diplomatic 
situations in foreign countries, but had lived in retire- 
ment in Scotland for more than thirty years. He seemed 
to be quite distinct in his ideas of things, as appeared 
from his going to shops and making purchases in the most 
correct manner, but always by searching about till he 
found the article he wanted; and when driving out in his 
carriage, though he could not make himself intelligible 
to his coachman in words, he was quite distinct in 
directing him by signs where he wished to be driven. 
The language which he chiefly employed appeared to be 
Spanish, and with a Portuguese gentleman who paid him 
a visit, he conversed for some time very correctly in 
Spanish, introducing, however, occasionally words from 
other languages. For a long time after the attack, he 
rarely spoke the shortest sentence in English, though he 
frequently used single words, but in a manner in which 
no meaning could be attached to them. Having been 



118 MEMORY. 

afterwards considerably burnt about the head, by setting 
fire to the curtains of his bed, he was observed to use 
more English words for some time, and this being followed 
by a course of blistering, he continued to speak more in 
English, but only occasionally, and in very short sentences. 
These were sometimes correctly expressed, and some- 
times with that misapplication of words which is usual in 
such affections ; thus, having at one time occasion to 
inspect a house which was of very small dimensions, but 
fitted up with great neatness, he said, " It is very neat, 
but a very little child." Afterwards, it was observed 
that he spoke more English than usual when he began a 
conversation with a person whom he had not seen for 
some time, but that he soon relapsed into his unintelli- 
gible language ; and the same effect was produced by any 
communication that excited either surprise or distress. 

Another remarkable modification of this condition of 
the mental powers, is found in those cases in which there 
is loss of the recollection of a particular period. A cler- 
gyman mentioned by Dr. Beattie, on recovering from an 
apoplectic attack, was found to have lost the recollection 
of exactly four years ; everything that occurred before 
that period he remembered perfectly. He gradually 
recovered, partly by a spontaneous revival of his memory, 
and partly by acquiring a knowledge of the leading events 
of the period. A young lady who was present at a catas- 
trophe in Scotland, in which many people lost their lives 
by the fall of the gallery of a church, escaped without any 
injury, but with the complete loss of the recollection of 
any of the circumstances ; and this extended, not only to 
the accident, but to everything that had occurred to her 
for a certain time before going to church. A lady, whom 
I attended some years ago in a protracted illness, in which 
her memory became much impaired, lost the recollec- 
tion of a period of about ten or twelve years, but spoke 
with perfect consistency of things as they stood before 
that time. 



INFLUENCE OF DISEASE. 119 

As far as I have been able to trace it, the principle in 
such cases seems to be, that, -when the memory is 
impaired to a certain degree, the loss of it extends back- 
wards to some event or some period, by which a particu- 
larly deep impression had been made upon the mind. 
In the lady last mentioned, for instance, the period of 
which she lost the recollection was that during which she 
had resided in Edinburgh, and it extended back to her 
removal from another city in which she had lived for 
many years. During her residence in the latter, she 
had become the mother of a numerous family, and other 
events had occurred likely to make a deep impression on 
her mind. The period of her residence in Edinburgh 
had been uniform and tranquil, and without any occur- 
rence calculated to excite much attention in a person of 
rather slender mental endowments. I do not know 
whether we can give a similar explanation of cases, in 
which the loss of memory has extended only to particular 
subjects; namely, by supposing that these subjects had 
been more slightly impressed upon the mind than those 
which were retained. A gentleman is mentioned by 
Dr. Beattie, who, after a blow on the head, lost his 
knowledge of Greek, and did not appear to have lost 
anything else. 

While we thus review the manner in which the mani- 
festations of mind are affected, in certain cases, by 
diseases and injuries of the brain, it is necessary that we 
should refer briefly to the remarkable instances in which 
the brain has been extensively diseased without the 
phenomena of mind being impaired in any sensible 
degree. This holds true both in regard to the destruc- 
tion of each individual part of the brain, and likewise to 
the extent to which the cerebral mass may be diseased or 
destroyed. In another work, I have mentioned various, 
cases which illustrate this fact in a very striking manner;' 
particularly the case of a lady in whom one half of the, 



120 MEMORY. 

brain was reduced to a mass of disease ; but who retained 
all her faculties to the last, except that there was an 
imperfection of vision, — and had been enjoying herself 
at a convivial party in the house of a friend, a few hours 
before her death. A man mentioned by Dr. Ferriar, 
who died of an affection of the brain, retained all his 
faculties entire till the very moment of death, which was 
sudden ; on examining his head, the whole right hemi- 
sphere, that is, one half of his brain, was found destroyed 
by suppuration. In a similar case, recorded by Diemer- 
brock, half a pound of matter was found in the brain ; 
and in one by Dr. Heberden, there was half a pound of 
water. A man mentioned by Mr. O'Halloran, suffered 
such an injury of the head, that a large portion of the 
bone was removed on the right side, and, extensive sup- 
puration having taken place, there was discharged at 
each dressing, through the opening, an immense quan- 
tity of matter mixed with large masses of the substance 
of the brain. This went on for seventeen days, and it 
appears that nearly one half of the brain was thrown out 
mixed with the matter; yet the man retained all his 
intellectual faculties to the very moment of dissolution ; 
and, through the whole course of the disease, his mind 
maintained uniform tranquillity. These remarkable his- 
tories might be greatly multiplied if it were required, but 
at present it seems only necessary to add the very inte- 
resting case related by Mr. Marshall. It is that of a 
man who died with a pound of water in his brain, after 
having been long in a state of idiocy, but who, a very 
short time before his death, became perfectly rational. 

The facts which have been thus briefly referred to, 
present a series of phenomena of the most remarkable 
kind, but on which we cannot speculate in the smallest 
degree without advancing beyond the sphere of our 
limited faculties. One thing, however, is certain — that 
they give no countenance to the doctrine of materialism, 



ABSTKACTION. 121 

•which some have presumptuously deduced from a very- 
partial view of the influence of cerebral disease upon the 
manifestations of mind. They show us, indeed, in a 
very striking manner, the mind holding intercourse with 
the external world through the medium of the brain and 
nervous system ; and, by certain diseases of these organs, 
they show this intercourse impaired or suspended ; but 
they show nothing more. In particular, they warrant 
nothing in any degree analogous to those partial deduc- 
tions which form the basis of materialism. On the i 
contrary, they show us the brain injured and diseased to 
an extraordinary extent, without the mental functions 
being affected in any sensible degree. They show us, 
farther, the manifestations of mind obscured for a time, 
and yet reviving in all their original vigour, almost in 
the very moment of dissolution. Finally, they exhibit 
to us the mind, cut off from all intercourse with the ex- 
ternal world, recalling its old impressions, even of things 
long forgotten; and exercising its powers on those 
which had long ceased to exist, in a manner totally 
irreconcilable with any idea we can form of a material 
function. 



SECTION II. 
Abstraction. 



By Abstraction, we separate various facts from each 
other, and examine them individually. We separate, 
for example, the qualities of a substance, and contemplate 
one of them apart from the rest. This act of the mind 
is employed in two processes of the utmost importance. 
By the one, we examine a variety of objects, select the 
properties in which certain numbers of them agree, and 
thus arrange them into classes, genera, and species. By 
the other, we take a more comprehensive view of an 



122 ABSTRACTION. 

extensive collection of facts, and select one which is 
common to the whole. This we call generalising, or 
deducing a general fact, or general principle ; and the 
process is of extensive application in all philosophical 
inquiries. The particular points to be attended to, in 
conducting it, will come under view in another part of 
our subject. The most important is, that the fact, 
assumed as general, really belongs to all the individual 
instances, and has not been deduced from the examina- 
tion of only a part of them. 

There have been disputes among writers on the science 
of mind, whether abstraction is to be considered as a dis- 
tinct mental operation, or is referable to judgment. But 
I have already stated that my object in this outline is to 
avoid all such discussions, and to allude simply to the 
actual processes of the mind in a practical view. One 
thing at least is clear, — that our abstractions must be 
corrected by reason, the province of which is to judge 
whether the process is performed correctly, and on sound 
principles. This, however, is distinct from the primary 
act of the mind, to which I now apply the term abstrac- 
tion, which is simply the power of contemplating one 
property of a substance apart from its other properties. 
It thus disjoins things which by nature are intimately 
united, and which cannot be separated in any other man- 
ner. Reason does not appear to be immediately concerned 
in this, though it is most closely connected with the pur- 
poses to which the process is afterwards applied ; namely, 
classifying substances according to a certain agreement of 
properties, and fixing upon those which are common to 
all the individuals of a numerous series, in the act of 
generalising, or deducing a general fact or general 
principle. 

I have formerly alluded to a period in the science of 
mind, when our ideas of external things were supposed 
to be certain actual essences, separated from the sub- 
stances and conveyed to the thinking principle. In 



ABSTRACTION. 123 

connection with this theory, there arose a controversy, 
whether, when we perform the mental act of generalising, 
there exists in nature any essence corresponding to a 
general idea; or whether, in generalising, we merely make 
use of an abstract term : whether, for example, in using 
the word man, we only employ a term ; or whether we 
have the power of forming an idea of man in the abstract, 
without thinking of any individual man: and in the 
same manner, whether we can reason respecting a 
class of substances, without thinking of any of the 
individuals composing it. Hence arose two sects, 
whose disputes make a most remarkable figure in the 
history of intellectual science, — the Nominalists and 
Realists. 

The controversies of these sects we now consider as 
little more than a matter of historical curiosity ; but, for 
several centuries they divided the learned of Europe, 
and were often carried on with an asperity amounting to 
actual persecution. " The Nominalists," says Mosheim, 
" procured the death of John Huss, who was a Realist ; 
and in their letter to Lewis, King of France, do not 
pretend to deny that he fell a victim to the resentment 
of their sect. The Realists, on the other hand, obtained, 
in the year 1479, the condemnation of John de Wesalia, 
who was attached to the party of the Nominalists. These 
contending sects carried their fury so far as to charge 
each other with the sin against the Holy Ghost." " The 
dispute," says Mr. Stewart, " was carried on with great 
warmth in the universities of France, Germany, and 
England, more particularly in the two former countries, 
where the sovereigns were led by some political views to 
interest themselves deeply in the contest, and even to 
employ the civil power in support of their favourite opi- 
nions. The Emperor Lewis of Bavaria, in return for the 
assistance which, in his disputes with the Pope, Occam 
had given him by his writings, sided with the Nominalists ; 
Lewis the Eleventh of France, on the other hand, attached 



1 24 ABSTRACTION. 

himself to the Realists, and made their antagonists the 
objects of a cruel persecution." 

We find some difficulty in believing, in the present 
day, that the controversy which thus embroiled the Con- 
tinent of Europe in all the rancour of actual persecution, 
related to the question, whether, in employing general 
terms, we use words or names only, or whether there is 
in nature anything corresponding to what we mean by a 
general idea. It is well designed by Mr. Stewart as 
" one of the most curious events which occur in the 
history of the human mind." 

The question is one of no practical importance, and, 
when it is cleared from its connection with the ancient 
doctrine of ideas, appears to be one of no difficulty. 
Without supposing that there is in nature any actual 
essence corresponding to a general idea, the truth seems 
to be, that we do form a certain notion or conception of 
a quality in which several substances agree, distinct from 
any one substance to which the quality belongs. Hence 
some have proposed the term Notionalist, or Concep- 
tualise as designating opinions distinct from those both 
of the Nominalists and Realists. But, according to the 
principles of modern science, we cannot consider the dis- 
cussion as anything more than an ingenious arguing on 
points of no real importance. The process which the 
mind really carries on, in that mental operation to which 
these remarks have referred, consists simply in tracing 
relations or points of resemblance in which certain indi- 
vidual things agree, though they may in others be 
remarkably different. We then give a name to that 
common quality, and so form the individuals into a class 
of which this quality is the distinguishing character. 
Thus, we may take a number of animals differing remark- 
ably from each other, and say, — they are all quadrupeds. 
We may take a number of substances very dissimilar in 
their external and mechanical properties, and say, — 
they are all acids. Some of these substances are solid, 



IMAGINATION. 125 

some fluid, and some gaseous ; but the property of acidity- 
is common to them all, and this accordingly becomes the 
name and the distinguishing character of the class into 
which we now arrange them. 



SECTION III. 
Imagination. 



In the exercise of imagination, we take the component 
elements of real scenes, events, or characters, and com- 
bine them anew by a process of the mind itself, so as 
to form compounds which may have no existence in 
nature. A painter, by this process, depicts a landscape 
combining the beauties of various real landscapes, and 
excluding their defects. A poet, or a novelist, in the 
same manner, calls into being a fictitious character, 
endowed with those qualities with which it suits his pur- 
pose to invest him, — places him in contact with other 
beings equally imaginary, and arranges, according to his 
will, the scenes in which he shall bear a part, and the 
line of conduct which he shall follow. The compound in 
these cases is entirely fictitious and arbitrary ; but it is 
expected that the individual elements shall be such as 
actually occur in nature, and that the combination shall 
not differ remarkably from what might really happen. 
When this is not attended to, as in a picture or a novel, 
we speak of the work being extravagant or out of nature. 
But, avoiding combinations which are grossly at variance 
with reality, the framer of such a compound may make 
it superior to anything that actually occurs. A painter 
may draw a combination of beauties in a landscape supe- 
rior to anything that is actually known to exist ; and a 
novelist may delineate a more perfect character than is 
met with in real life. It is remarked by Mr. Stewart, 
that Milton in his Garden of Eden has " created a land- 



126 IMAGINATION. 

scape more perfect, probably, in all its parts, than has 
ever been realised in nature, and certainly very different 
from anything that this country exhibited at the time 
■when he wrote. It is a curious remark of Mr. Walpole," 
he adds, " that Milton's Eden is free from the defects of 
the Old English Garden, and is imagined on the same 
principles -which it was reserved for the present age to 
carry into execution." 

The mode of artificial combination which results from 
the exercise of imagination, is chiefly applicable to four 
kinds of composition. 

1. Fictitious narrative, in which the author delineates 
imaginary scenes or transactions ; and paints imaginary 
characters, endowing them with such qualities as may 
suit the purpose which he has in view. 

2. Composition, or verbal address, directed to the 
passions, and intended to excite particular mental emo- 
tions. To this head are referable many of the combina- 
tions of the poet, and addresses calculated to operate 
upon the feelings of a popular assembly; also, those 
which derive their character from the language of trope 
and metaphor. The genius of the orator, and the inven- 
tive powers of the poet, are exhibited in the variety and 
the novelty of the analogies, resemblances, illustra- 
tions, and figures, which he thus brings to bear upon 
his subject. 

3. Those unexpected and peculiar associations which 
form the basis of wit and humour. 

4. Combinations of objects of sense calculated to pro- 
duce mental emotions of a pleasurable or painful kind, 
as our impressions of the sublime, the beautiful, the 
terrible, or the ludicrous. The combinations of this 
class are chiefly referable to the head of objects of taste, 
or the fine arts ; and are exemplified in the inventions of 
the painter and the statuary, in decorative architecture and 
artificial gardening, — we may add, theatrical exhibitions 
and music. 



IMAGINATION. 127 

The facility of rapidly forming, in these several depart- 
ments, combinations calculated to produce the effect 
■which is intended, constitutes what we call inventive 
genius. Similar power of invention, founded on an 
exercise of imagination, may also be applied to the inves- 
tigations of science. It may be employed, for example, 
in the contrivance of experiments calculated to aid an 
investigation, or to illustrate a doctrine ; and in the con- 
struction of those legitimate hypotheses, which have 
often led to the most important discoveries. It leads 
the philosophical inquirer, not to be satisfied with observ- 
ing facts as they happen to be presented to him, but to 
grasp after principles by eager anticipation, and then to 
contrive courses of observations or experiments calculated 
to ascertain their truth. 

The union of elements, in all such productions of the 
imagination, is regulated by the knowledge, the taste, 
and the intellectual habits of the author ; and we must 
add, by his moral principles. According to the views, 
the habits, and the principles of him who frames them, 
therefore, they may either contribute to moral and intel- 
lectual improvement ; or they may tend to mislead the 
judgment, vitiate the taste, and corrupt the moral 
feelings. 

Similar observations apply to the conduct of the ima- 
gination in individuals, and its influence in the cultivation 
of moral and intellectual character. There is certainly 
no power of the mind that requires more curious manage- 
ment and stern control ; and the proper regulation of it 
cannot be too strongly impressed upon the young. The 
sound and proper exercise of it may be made to contribute 
to the cultivation of all that is virtuous and estimable in 
human character. It leads us, in particular, to place 
ourselves in the situation of others, to enter into their 
feelings and wants, and to participate in their distresses. 
It thus tends to the cultivation of sympathy and the 
benevolent affections; and promotes all those feelings 



128 IMAGINATION. 

•which exert so extensive an influence in the duties of 
friendship, and the harmonies of civil and social inter- 
course. We may even say that we exercise imagination, 
when we endeavour to act upon that high standard of 
morals, which requires us, " to do to others as we would 
that they should do unto us." For in this mental act 
we must imagine ourselves in the situation of other men, 
and, in their character, judge of our own conduct towards 
them. Thus a man, deficient in imagination, though 
he may be free from anything unjust or dishonourable, 
is apt to be cold, contracted, and selfish ; regardless of 
the feelings, and indifferent to the distresses of others. 
Farther, we may be said to exercise imagination, when 
we carry our views beyond present and sensible objects, 
and endeavour to feel the power of " things which are 
not seen," and the reality of scenes and times which are 
yet to come. On the other hand, imagination may be 
employed for calling into being evils which have no 
existence, or for exaggerating those which are real ; for 
fostering malevolent feelings, and for imputing to those 
with whom we are connected, motives and intentions 
which have no foundation in truth. Finally, an ill- 
regulated imagination may be employed in occupying 
the mind with waking dreams and vain delusions, to the 
exclusion of all those high pursuits which ought to employ 
the faculties of a rational being. 

There has been considerable difference of opinion in 
regard to the effects produced upon the mind by fictitious 
narrative. Without entering minutely upon the merits 
of this controversy, I think it may be contended, that 
two evils are likely to arise from much indulgence in 
works of fiction. The one is a tendency to give way to 
the wild play of the imagination, a practice most delete- 
rious both to the intellectual and moral habits. The other 
is a disruption of the harmony which ought to exist between 
the moral emotions and the conduct, — a principle of 
extensive and important influence. In the healthy state 



IMAGINATION. 129 

of the moral feelings, for example, the emotion of sym- 
pathy, excited by a tale of sorrow, ought to be followed 
by some efforts for the relief of the sufferer. When such 
relations in real life are listened to from time to time 
without any such efforts, the emotion gradually becomes 
weakened, and that moral condition is produced which 
we call selfishness, or hardness of heart. Fictitious 
tales of sorrow appear to have a similar tendency ; — the 
emotion is produced without the corresponding conduct ; 
and, when this habit has been much indulged, the result 
seems to be, that a cold and barren sentimentalism is 
produced, instead of the habit of active benevolence. If 
fictitious narratives be employed for depicting scenes of 
vice, another evil of the greatest magnitude is likely to 
result from them, even though the conduct exhibited 
should be shown to end in remorse and misery. For by 
the mere familiarity with vice, an injury is done to the 
youthful mind, which is in no degree compensated by the 
moral at the close. 

Imagination, therefore, is a mental power of extensive 
influence, and capable of being turned to important pur- 
poses in the cultivation of individual character. But to 
be so, it must be kept under the strict control both of 
reason and of virtue. If it be allowed to wander at dis- 
cretion, through scenes of imagined wealth, ambition, 
frivolity, or pleasure, it tends to withdraw the mind from 
the important pursuits of life, to weaken the habit of 
attention, and to impair the judgment. It tends, in a 
most material manner, to prevent the due exercise of 
those nobler powers which are directed to the cultivation 
both of science and of virtue. The state of a mind, which 
has yielded itself to the influence of this delusive habit, 
cannot be more forcibly represented than in the words 
of an eloquent writer : — " The influence of this habit of 
dwelling on the beautiful fallacious forms of imagination, 
will accompany the mind into the most serious specula- 
tions, or rather musings, on the real world, and what is 



130 IMAGINATION. 

to be done in it, and expected ; as the image which the 
eye acquires from looking at any dazzling object, still 
appears before it, wherever it turns. The vulgar mate- 
rials that constitute the actual economy of the world, will 
rise up to its sight in fictitious forms, which it cannot 
disenchant into plain reality, nor will even suspect to be 
deceptive. It cannot go about with sober, rational in- 
spection, and ascertain the nature and value of all things 
around it. Indeed such a mind is not disposed to examine, 
with any careful minuteness, the real condition of things. 
It is content with ignorance, because environed with 
something more delicious than such knowledge, in the 
paradise which imagination creates. In that paradise it 
walks delighted, till some imperious circumstance of real 
life call it thence, and gladly escapes thither again when 
the avocation is past. There, everything is beautiful 
and noble, as could be desired to form the residence of 
an angel. If a tenth part of the felicities that have 
been enjoyed, the great actions that have been per- 
formed, the beneficent institutions that have been 
established, and the beautiful objects that have been 
seen in that happy region, could have been imported 
into this terrestrial place, — what a delightful thing it 
would have been to awake each morning to see such a 
world once more."* 

To the same purpose are the words of another writer 
of the highest authority. — " To indulge the power of 
fiction, and send imagination out upon the wing, is often 
the sport of those who delight too much in silent specu- 
lation. — He who has nothing external that can divert 
him, must find pleasure in his own thoughts, and must 
conceive himself what he is not, for who is pleased with 
what he is ? He then expatiates in boundless futurity, 
and culls from all imaginable conditions, that which for 
the present moment he should most desire ; amuses his 
desires with impossible enjoyments, and confers upon his 

* Foster's Essays. 



EEASON. 131 

pride unattainable dominion. The mind dances from 
scene to scene, unites all pleasures in all combinations, 
and riots in delights which nature and fortune, with all 
their bounty, cannot bestow. In time, some particular 
train of ideas fixes the attention ; all other intellectual 
gratifications are rejected; the mind, in weariness or 
leisure, recurs constantly to the favourite conception, and 
feasts on the luscious falsehood whenever she is offended 
with the bitterness of truth. By degrees the reign of 
fancy is confirmed ; she grows first imperious, and in time 
despotic. Then fictions begin to operate as realities, false 
opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes in dreams 
of rapture or of anguish."* 



SECTION IV. 
Of Reason or Judgment. 



The most simple view which we can take of reason, 
probably is, that it is the exercise of mind by which we 
compare facts with each other, and mental impressions 
with external things. The applications of this mental 
process may be referred to the following heads : — 

I. We compare facts with each other, so as to trace 
their relations, connections, and tendencies ; and to dis- 
tinguish the connections which are incidental from those 
which are fixed and uniform. 

What we call the relations of things, whether referring 
to external events or mental processes, comprehend all 
those facts which form the great objects of human know- 
ledge, with respect either to the individuals, or their 
tendencies towards each other. They may be briefly 
enumerated in the following manner : — 

* Johnson's Rasselas. 
K 2 



132 REASON. 

1. Relations of character, — or those marks, characters 
or properties, by which a substance may be recognised 
and may be distinguished from all others ; for example, 
the botanical characters of a plant, — the chemical pro- 
perties of a mineral, — the symptoms of a disease, — sen- 
sible properties of colour, taste, smell, &c, — the mental 
endowments and moral qualities of individual men. 

2. Relations of resemblance and analogy, arising out 
of a comparison of the qualities of various individual 
substances or events. These admit of various degrees. 
When there is a close agreement between two events or 
classes of events, it constitutes resemblance : when there 
are points of difference, it is analogy. In the latter case, 
we then trace the degrees of analogy depending upon the 
number of points in which the resemblance holds, and 
the number of points in which there is a difference. On 
the relations of resemblance, also, depend the arts of 
arrangement and classification ; and the use of those gene- 
ral terms by which we learn to express a great number 
of individual objects by a single term, derived from cer- 
tain characters in which they agree, such as solids, fluids, 
quadrupeds, &c. We find a certain number of substances 
which agree so much in their properties, that we class 
them together as one species. We then find other sub- 
stances which agree with these in a certain number of their 
properties, but differ in others. We dismiss the latter, 
and retain those only in which they all agree, and so form 
the whole into a genus. The individuals, forming the 
genus, are still found to agree in some of their properties 
with various other substances, and, by leaving out of 
view those in which they differ, we again form this still 
larger number into a class or order. 

3. Nearly connected with the former, but still more 
extensive, is that important process by which, among a 
great series of facts, we trace an accordance, and thus 
deduce from the whole a general fact or general principle. 

4. Relations of composition, — comprehending the 



EEASON. 133 

resolution of a substance into its elements or constituent 
parts, — the connection of the parts as constituting a 
whole, — of the whole to the parts, and of the parts to 
each other. 

5. Relations of causation, or the tendencies of bodies 
to produce or be followed by certain actions upon each 
other in certain circumstances. These refer chiefly to 
that uniform sequence of events from which we derive 
our idea of the one being the cause of the other. But 
the class likewise includes other relations arising out of 
the same subject ; such as the relation of two events as 
the joint causes of a common effect, or the joint effects 
of a common cause ; or as forming links in a chain of 
sequences in which we have still to look for other events, 
as the true antecedents or the final results. It includes 
also that most important mental process, by which, from 
the properties of a known effect, we infer the powers and 
properties of an unknown cause. 

6. Relations of degree and proportion, as in those 
truths and relations which are the subjects of mathe- 
matics. 

7. The important question of moral relations, which 
does not properly belong to the present part of our 
inquiry, — including the relation of certain actions to the 
great standard of moral rectitude, — and to those prin- 
ciples which bind men together in the harmonies of social 
and domestic intercourse. 

These appear to include the principal relations of 
things, which the mind requires to investigate in an intel- 
lectual point of view. The facts respecting them are 
acquired by attention and memory ; but it is the province 
of reason to separate, in the mass so acquired, those 
which are incidental and temporary from those which are 
uniform, — to ascertain, for example, those characters by 
which a substance may be certainly recognised, — the 
symptoms by which a disease may be distinguished from 
other diseases which resemble it, — and the actions which 



134 KEASON. 

a substance may be confidently expected to produce upon 
other substances in particular circumstances. When the 
mental process required for doing so is performed in a 
legitimate manner, the deduction constitutes ti-uth, in 
regard to the particular point which is the immediate 
subject of it ; when the contrary, it leads to fallacy or 
falsehood. Hence reason has sometimes been defined, 
that exercise of mind by which we distinguish truth from 
falsehood. 

II. Having, by the preceding processes, ascertained 
the uniform tendencies of bodies to be followed by certain 
actions upon each other, we bring these tendencies into 
operation for the production of certain results. Hence 
reason has been considered, also, to be that power, by 
which we combine means for accomplishing an end ; but 
this, perhaps, may be regarded rather as the practical 
application of the knowledge to which reason leads us, 
than as a primary part of the province of reason itself. 

III. We compare mental impressions with external 
things, so as to correct the impressions of the mind in 
regard to the external world. Mental processes of the 
most important kind are connected with this application 
of reason. 

Eeason or judgment, when duly exercised, conducts us 
through these various mental operations, and guides us 
towards the discovery of truth. It does so by enabling 
us to compare facts with facts, and events with events ; 
to weigh their relations, bearings, and tendencies ; and 
to assign to each circumstance its proper weight and 
influence in the conclusions which we are to deduce from 
them. The person who does so, we call a man of sound 
judgment, whose opinions and conclusions we receive 
with confidence. On the contrary, we receive with dis- 
trust and suspicion the conclusions of a man of an 



BEASON. 135 

opposite character, who forms his opinions and deduc- 
tions hastily, — that is, from a limited number of facts, 
or a hasty and imperfect examination of their relations. 

A distinction has sometimes been made between the 
term reason, as used in the language of science, and as 
employed in the common affairs of life ; but there seems 
to be no real ground for the distinction. 

Reason, in the language of intellectual science, appears 
to be that process by which we judge correctly of the 
true and uniform relations of facts or events, and give to 
each circumstance its due influence in the deductions. 
It is chiefly opposed to imagination, in which the mind 
is allowed to ramble through chains of events which are 
connected by loose and casual associations, leading to 
no true results. It is also distinguished from simple 
memory, in which facts or events are connected in the 
mind by certain principles of association, without a full 
view of their relations. Thus, when we find a person 
remembering an extensive collection of facts, and forming 
certain combinations among them, or deductions from 
them, without attending to points of difference which 
tend to other deductions, we say his memory is better 
than his judgment. 

Reasoning, again, appears to be the consecutive exer- 
cise of reason, when applied to the investigation of a 
particular subject, or a certain series of facts or events, 
so as to trace their relations or to establish a particular 
conclusion as deduced from such a series. This process, 
however, which is commonly called the Discursive 
Faculty, is to be distinguished from the simple exercise 
of reason. It ought to be guided by reason, that is, by 
a full view of the real relations of the facts about which 
it is exercised ; but it is often allowed to fix upon a slight 
and partial view of them ; or is applied ingeniously to 
discover relations of a particular kind only. Thus, we 
speak of a man who reasons closely, or with correct 
attention to the real relations of things, and the true 



136 REASON. 

weight of every fact in the investigation ; of another who 
reasons loosely, or who is led away by casual relations, 
and partial views, affording no time deductions ; and of a 
third who reasons ingeniously and plausibly, but not 
soundly, — that is, who argues on one side of a question, 
and contemplates facts in particular relations only, or as 
supporting particular opinions, neglecting those views of 
them which tend to a different conclusion. This art of 
ingenious reasoning or disputation, accordingly, we shall 
afterwards have occasion to show, is not only to be 
distinguished from the sound exercise of reason or 
judgment, but is often found directly opposed to it. 

In the language of theology, reason is distinguished 
from revelation ; and means that exercise of the mind, 
by which we deduce a certain knowledge of the Deity 
from the power and wisdom displayed in the works of 
creation, apart from any direct revelation of his character 
and will. 

In the language of common life, the mental process 
which we term reason or judgment, appears to be the 
same, though the facts on which it is exercised may be 
different. A reasonable man is one who, both in the 
formation of his opinions and the regulation of his con- 
duct, gives the due weight and influence to all the facts 
and considerations which ought to influence his decision. 
A man of the opposite character is one who takes up his 
opinions upon slight, partial, and inadequate grounds ; 
and then cannot, or will not, admit the impression of 
facts or arguments which are calculated to correct these 
unsound deductions; or who, in the regulation of his 
conduct, is led away by hasty impressions, or feeble and 
inadequate motives, without giving due consideration to 
those which are calculated to lead him into a different 
course. The former we call a reasonable, considerate, 
thinking man ; the latter, we say, is an unreasonable, 
inconsiderate man, who cannot or will not think. It also 
very often happens that the latter, having formed his 



EEASON. 137 

conclusions, is obstinately tenacious of them ; while the 
former is still open to the true and full impression of any- 
new fact or argument that is proposed to him. Solomon 
has expressed in a very striking manner the leading 
features of two such characters, namely, of the man who 
takes up his opinions with little examination, and then 
adheres to them with inaccessible pertinacity ; and him 
who forms them only after full and candid examination, 
and with a clear perception of the grounds on which they 
are formed; — " the sluggard is wiser in his own conceit 
than seven men that can render a reason." 

The process of mind which we call reason or judgment, 
therefore, seems to be essentially the same whether it be 
applied to the investigation of truth or the affairs of com- 
mon life. In both cases it consists in comparing and 
weighing facts, considerations, and motives, and deduc- 
ing from them conclusions, both as principles of belief 
and rules of conduct. In doing so, a man of sound judg- 
ment proceeds with caution, and with due consideration 
of all the facts which he ought to take into the mquiry. 
Having formed his conclusions, he is still open to the 
influence of new facts, by which they may be corrected or 
modified ; but he is not to be shaken in his confidence 
by trivial statements, or frivolous objections. Opposed 
to this there are two modifications of character which 
present an interesting subject for observation. Both 
form their conclusions hastily, and without due exami- 
nation of the facts and considerations which ought to 
influence them ; but their subsequent conduct is widely 
different. The one is shaken in his conclusions by every 
new fact that is presented to him, and every slight 
objection that is brought against his inductions ; and the 
consequence is, that his opinions and his principles of 
conduct are constantly changing. The other, having 
framed his opinions, though on grounds the most in- 
adequate, adheres to them with inaccessible firmness; 
and seems totally proof against the force of any facts or 



138 EEASON. 

arguments that can be brought against them. The former 
is the more hopeful character of the two, — his error con- 
sisting in a want of attention rather than of judgment ; 
or in a habit of framing his conclusions too hastily. By 
education, or exertion on his own part, this habit may be 
corrected in a greater or less degree ; but the latter 
appears to labour under a radical defect of judgment, which 
makes him insensible to the due force of the considera- 
tions and arguments which influence other men. In the 
affairs of life, the former, after perhaps committing vari- 
ous indiscretions, acquires wisdom from experience, — 
that is, by having the fallacy of his conclusions in many 
instances forced upon him. The latter remains un- 
changed ; retaining the same confidence in his own con- 
clusions, and the same contempt for everything that can 
be opposed to them. This unfortunate condition of mind, 
though it may have had its origin in peculiarity of men- 
tal constitution or deficient education, is fostered and 
increased by indulgence, and by a neglect of cultivating 
the important habit of calm and candid investigation. 
The man seems at last to become totally insensible to 
the motives and evidences which influence other men ; 
and the more striking and convincing these may be to 
others, the more remarkable appears the condition of that 
mind which does not feel or estimate their importance. 
This state of mind is emphatically ascribed, in the sacred 
writings, to the man who denies the existence of a great 
first cause ; — " the fool hath said in his heart, there is 
no God." By some process of mind, known to himself, 
he has arrived at this conclusion ; and he is totally 
insensible to the manifold evidence which meets him 
wherever he turns his eye, of its futility and folly. And 
surely if there is among human beings an affecting re- 
presentation of a mind lost to every function of a healthy 
understanding, incapable of rising from effects to causes, 
or of tracing the relation of things, — a mind deserted by 
its rightful guardian, and left the unprotected victim of 



EEASON. 139 

every wild delusion that flutters by, — it is to be found in 
him, who, possessed of the senses of a living man, can 
stand before the fair face of creation, and say in his 
heart — " there is no God." 

In every exercise of judgment, it is of essential im- 
portance, that the mind shall be entirely unbiassed by 
any personal feeling or emotion which might restrain or 
influence its decisions. Hence the difficulty we feel in 
deciding on a subject in which we are deeply interested, 
especially if our inclination, and the facts and motives 
presented by the case, be in any degree opposed to each 
other. Thus, we speak of a man who allows his feelings 
to influence his judgment ; and of another, of a strong 
and cool mind, who allows no feeling to interfere with 
his decisions. Any particular emotion, which has been 
deeply indulged and fostered, comes in this manner to 
influence the judgment in a most extraordinary degree. 
It is thus that a vitiated and depraved state of the moral 
feelings at last misleads the judgment, in regard to the 
great principles of moral rectitude ; and terminates in a 
state of mind, emphatically described in the sacred wri- 
tings, in which a man puts evil for good and good for 
evil, and is left to the influence of strong delusion, so 
that he " believes a lie." This remarkable condition of 
the power of reasoning and judging, we cannot refer to 
any principle with which we are acquainted ; but we must 
receive it as a fact in the history of our moral constitu- 
tion, which is not to be questioned. A poet has sung, 
that vice, which at first is hated as an odious monster, is, 
when seen too oft, endured, then pitied, then embraced ! 
and he has only added his evidence to a fact, which has 
been received upon the testimony of the philosopher and 
the moralist in every age, and is acted upon as a fixed 
and uniform principle of our nature by all classes 
of men. 

Upon the grounds which have been briefly referred to 



140 REASON. 

in the above observations, it will appear, that the prin- 
ciples, on which a man should form his opinions, are 
essentially the same with those by which he ought to 
regulate his conduct. If this conclusion be admitted, it 
will enable us to perceive the fallacy of a dogma which 
has often been brought forward with much confidence, — 
that a man is not responsible for his belief. When taken 
abstractly, this is true ; but, in the practical application 
of it, there is a great and dangerous fallacy. In the 
opinions which a man forms on any particular subject, 
he is indeed influenced, not by his own will, but by the 
facts or evidences by which the doctrines are supported : 
and, in this sense, a man may justly be said, not to be 
responsible for his belief. But when we apply the prin- 
ciple to practical purposes, and especially to those truths 
of religious belief to which the dogma has been pointed, 
it may easily be seen to be as fallacious as it is dangerous. 
A man is undoubtedly responsible for the care with which 
he has informed himself of the facts and evidences by 
which his belief on these subjects ought to be influenced ; 
and for the care, attention, and anxiety with which he 
gives to each of these facts and evidences its due weight 
in the momentous inquiry. He is farther responsible 
for any degree of that vitiated and corrupted state of the 
moral feelings, by which his judgment may have been 
biassed, so as to prevent him from approaching the sub- 
ject with the sincere desire for truth of a pure and 
uncontaminated mind. If, in this sense, we say that a 
man is not responsible for his belief, we may quite as 
reasonably allege, that he is not responsible for his con- 
duct, because he chooses, on some slight and partial 
grounds, to frame for himself principles of action, with- 
out taking into consideration those fundamental rules of 
moral rectitude by which mankind in general are ex- 
pected to be influenced. We may as well contend, that 
the man is not responsible for his conduct, who by long 
familiarity with vice has lost sight of its malignity, and 



SYSTEM OF BROWN. 141 

has come to approve and love that which he once 
contemplated with abhorrence. 

It appears, then, that the exercise of reason is pre- 
cisely the same, and is guided by the same laws, whether 
it be applied to the investigation of truth, or to the regu- 
lation of conduct. The former is more particularly con- 
nected with the farther prosecution of our inquiry : but 
the leading principles apply equally to the great question 
of morals, and the important subject of religious belief. 
In prosecuting the subject as a branch of intellectual 
science, it seems to resolve itself into two parts : — 

I. The use of reason in the investigation of truth. 

II. The use of reason in correcting the impressions of 
the mind in regard to external things. 

Before proceeding to these branches of the subject, 
however, this may perhaps be the proper place for again 
stating in a few words, that, in the preceding observations, 
my object has been to confine myself to facts, respecting 
the processes which the mind actually performs, without 
entering on the question how it performs them. On 
this subject we find great differences among philosophers, 
which I have alluded to only in an incidental manner. 
Some appear to have spoken in too unqualified terms, 
respecting various and distinct faculties of the mind, 
and have enumerated a variety of these, corresponding to 
the various mental operations. Dr. Brown, on the other 
hand, has followed a very different course, by referring 
all our mental processes to the two principles of simple 
and relative suggestion. According to this eloquent and 
ingenious writer, we have no direct voluntary power over 
the succession of our thoughts ; but these follow each 
other in consequence of certain principles of suggestion, 
by which conceptions, in certain circumstances, call up 
or suggest other conceptions, which are in some manner 



142 BEASON. 

related to them. We have the power only of fixing the 
mind more intensely upon some images of this series, 
when they arise, in consequence of approving of them, 
as referring to some subject of thought which is before 
us, while we disapprove of others of the series as less 
allied to it. The former become more fixed and vivid in 
consequence of this approbation, while the latter are 
allowed to sink back into oblivion. What systematic 
writers have called the faculty of conception, is, accord- 
ing to this system, the simple presence in the mind of 
one of these suggested or recalled images. Memory is 
this simple suggestion combined with the impression of 
past time. In imagination, again, which has been con- 
sidered as a voluntary power of forming conceptions or 
images into new combinations, by a peculiar mental pro- 
cess, Dr. Brown believes that we have only the power of 
perceiving images as they are brought up by established 
principles of suggestion, — approving of some which thus 
become fixed, and disapproving of others which thus pass 
away. In thus approving or disapproving of the sug- 
gested images, we are guided by a perception of their 
relation to any particular subject which is before us, and 
which we may desire to cultivate or illustrate. According 
to this writer, therefore, what is usually called conception, 
is simple suggestion; — memory is simple suggestion 
with a feeling of past time ; — imagination is simple 
suggestion combined with desire and with a perception 
of relation. The relative suggestion of Dr. Brown, 
again, is that perception of relations arising out of the 
comparison of different facts or objects, which we have 
treated of under the more familiar name of judgment; — 
and the mental process, usually called abstraction, he 
resolves simply into a perception of resemblances. Various 
objections might be urged against this system; and we 
may, perhaps, be allowed to doubt, whether, by means of 
it, anything has been gained to the science of mind. But 
the plan which I proposed to myself in this outline does 



FIRST TRUTHS. 143 

not lead me into any consideration of it, or of those 
systems to which it is opposed. My object has been 
simply to inquire what the mind does, without entering 
on the question how it does so. On this ground, the 
division which has been adopted of distinct mental 
operations, not distinct faculties, appears to be that best 
calculated for practical utility. 

§ 1. — On the Use of Reason in the Investigation of 
Truth. 

In applying our reason to the investigation of truth in 
any department of knowledge, we are, in the first place, 
to keep in mind, that there are certain intuitive articles 
of belief, which lie at the foundation of all reasoning. 
For, in every process of reasoning, we proceed by found- 
ing one step upon another which has gone before it ; 
and, when we trace such a process backwards, we must 
arrive at certain truths which are recognised as funda- 
mental, requiring no proof, and admitting of none. These 
are usually called First Truths. They are not the 
result of any process of reasoning, but force themselves, 
with a conviction of infallible certainty, upon every sound 
understanding, without regard to its logical habits or 
powers of induction. The force of them is accordingly 
felt in an equal degree by all classes of men ; and they 
are acted upon with absolute confidence in the daily 
transactions of life. This is a subject of great and 
extensive importance. The truths, or articles of belief, 
which are referable to it, were briefly mentioned in a for- 
mer part of our inquiry ; they are chiefly the following : — 

I. A conviction of our own existence, as sentient and 
thinking beings ; and of mind as something distinct from 
the functions of the body. From the first exercise of 
perception, we acquire a knowledge of two things, — the 
thing perceived, — and the sentient being who perceives 



144 EEASON. 

it. In the same manner, from the exercise of any 
mental operation, such as memory, we acquire an im- 
pression of the thing remembered, — of an essence or 
principle which remembers it, — and of this essence as 
something entirely distinct from any function of the body. 
This last conviction must be considered as a first truth, 
or intuitive article of belief, standing on the same ground 
with the other truths which are referable to this class. 
It does not, as was formerly stated, rest upon any meta- 
physical or physiological argument, but upon an appeal 
made to the conviction of every man who attends to what 
is passing within. It resolves itself into a consciousness 
of the various mental processes, impressions, and emo- 
tions, as referable to one permanent and unchanging 
essence, while the body is known to be in a constant 
state of change ; and of these processes as being exer- 
cised without necessary dependence upon present im- 
pressions from external things. Like other truths of 
this class, it is, consequently, unaffected by sophisms 
which are brought against it ; and the answer to these 
does not properly consist in any process of reasoning, but 
in this appeal to every man's absolute conviction. If 
brought into comparison, indeed, the evidence which we 
have for the existence of mind, is, perhaps, less liable to 
deception, than that which we have for the existence of 
matter. 

II. A confidence in the evidence of our senses, in 
regard to the existence and the properties of external 
things ; or a conviction, that these have a real existence 
independently of our sensations. We have formerly 
referred to a celebrated doctrine, by which it was main- 
tained, that the mind perceives only its own ideas or 
impressions ; and that consequently, we derive from our 
senses no evidence of the existence of external things. 
The only answer to such a sophism is, that a confidence 
in the evidence of our senses is a first truth, or intuitive 



FIEST TEUTHS. 145 

principle of belief, admitting of no other proof than that 
which is derived from the universal conviction of mankind. 

III. A confidence in our own mental processes : — that 
facts, for example, which are suggested to us by our 
memory, really occurred. 

IV. A belief in our personal identity. This is derived 
from the combined operation of consciousness and me- 
mory ; and it consists in a remembrance of past mental 
feelings, and a comparison of them with present feelings 
as belonging to the same sentient being. There were 
formerly many disputes on this subject, — some maintain- 
ing that the notion of personal identity is inconsistent 
with the different states in which the mind exists at dif- 
ferent times, as love and hatred, joy and sorrow, — and 
also with the remarkable changes of character, which 
often take place at different periods of life. This was 
one of the sophisms of the schools, founded upon an 
obscure analogy with changes which take place in mate- 
rial things, and is not at all applicable to mind. The only 
answer to the paradox is, that every man, under every 
variety of mental emotion, and every possible change of 
character, retains an absolute conviction, that the sen- 
tient being whom he calls himself remains invariably the 
same ; and that, in all the affairs of life, whether refer- 
ring to the past or the future, every man acts upon this 
conviction. 

V. A conviction that every event must have a cause, 
and a cause adequate to the effect ; and that appearances, 
showing a correct adaptation of means to an end, indicate 
design and intelligence in the cause. These as funda- 
mental truths, are quite distinct from the question 
relating to the connection of any two specified events 
as cause and effect. The latter belongs to another part 
of our inquiry. 

L 



146 REASON. 

VI. A confidence in the uniformity of nature ; or that 
the same substance will always exhibit the same charac- 
ters ; and that the same cause, under the same circum- 
stances, will always be followed by the same effect. This, 
as a first truth, is a fundamental and instinctive convic- 
tion. The province of experience, we have already seen, 
is to ascertain the particular events, which are so con- 
nected as to be included under the law. 

Our confidence in the uniformity of nature is the 
foundation of all the calculations which we make for the 
future, in regard to our protection, or comfort, or even 
for the continuance of our existence ; and, without it, the 
whole system of human things would be thrown into 
inextricable confusion. It is referable to the two heads 
now stated, — uniformity of characters, and uniformity of 
sequences or operations. 

By uniformity of characters, in any substance, we mean, 
that the substance will always continue to exhibit the 
same combination of characters, so that when we have 
ascertained its presence by some of them, we conclude 
that it also possesses the others. These characters may 
be numerous, and referable to various classes, — such as 
the botanical characters of a plant — the chemical pro- 
perties of a mineral, — sensible qualities of smell, taste, 
and colour, — and capabilities of action upon other bodies. 
Such is our confidence in the undeviating uniformity of 
nature, that, whatever number of these qualities we have 
ascertained to belong to a substance we expect to find 
in every specimen of it in all time coming. For example, 
I find a substance which, by its smell and colour, I know 
to be opium. Without any farther information, I decide 
with confidence on its taste, its composition, its chemical 
affinities, its action on the human body, and the charac- 
ters of the plant from which it was derived; and I never 
calculate upon the possibility of being deceived in any of 
these particulars. 

Our confidence in the uniformity of the sequences or 



FIRST TRUTHS. 147 

operations of nature resolves itself into a conviction of 
the continuance of that order which experience has shown 
us to exist, in a uniform manner, in the succession of 
phenomena. The conviction itself is an original or. in- 
stinctive principle, felt and acted upon by all classes of 
men, in the daily transactions of life. It is from expe- 
rience that we learn the particular cases to which we are 
warranted in applying it ; or in other words, the succes- 
sions of phenomena which, there is sufficient ground for 
believing, have occurred in a certain order in time past. 
These we expect with perfect confidence to continue to 
be equally uniform, or to occur in the same order in 
time to come. The error to be guarded against in 
such investigations, is, assuming the past uniformity 
of phenomena on insufficient grounds, or, in other 
words, concluding that events have always occurred 
in a certain order, because we have seen them occur 
in that order in a few instances. A principle assumed 
in this manner may, of course, disappoint us, if 
applied to future phenomena; but, in this case, there 
is no deviation from the uniformity of nature, — the 
error consisted in assuming a uniformity where none 
existed. 

The uniformity of the sequences of phenomena is the 
foundation of our idea of causation, in regard to these 
phenomena ; that is to say, when we have observed one 
event uniformly follow another event, we consider the 
first as cause, and the second as effect ; and, when this 
relation has been ascertained to be uniform, we conclude 
that it will continue to be uniform, or that the same cause, 
in the same circumstances, will always be followed by 
the same effect. This expectation will, of course, disap- 
point us, if we have assumed the relation on inadequate 
grounds : or have considered two events as cause and 
effect, which have been only accidentally combined in a 
few instances. To entitle us to assume that the relation 
will be uniform in time to come, we must have full and 
l 2 



148 KEASON. 

adequate grounds for believing that it has been uniform 
in time past. 

In the great operations of nature, a very extensive 
observation often enables us to trace a remarkable uni- 
formity, even in regard to events which at first sight 
appear to be most irregular and uncertain. Thus, the 
most uncertain of all things is human life, as far as 
respects individuals ; but the doctrine of the continuance 
of life, in regard to a large body of men, is by extensive 
observation reduced almost to a certainty. Nothing is 
more uncertain than the proportion of males and females 
that shall be born in one family ; but, in great commu- 
nities, this also is uniform. There is much uncertainty 
in the character of different seasons, but there are facts 
which give probability to the conjecture, that, in a long 
series of years, there may also be discovered a remarkable 
uniformity. An impression of this kind was carried so far 
by the ancients, as to lead to the doctrine of the Annus 
Magnus, or Platonic year, in which it was believed that the 
whole series of human events would be acted over again. 

The uniform successions of phenomena are, with rea- 
sonable care, easily ascertained in regard to material 
things ; and, when they are ascertained, we rely upon 
their uniform continuance ; or, if we find a deviation in 
any instance, we easily ascertain the incidental cause by 
which the sequence is interrupted, and can provide 
against the interference of the same or any similar cause 
in future instances. There is greater uncertainty when 
our researches refer to the phenomena of mind, or the 
actions of living bodies. The causes of this uncertainty 
were formerly mentioned. It arises, partly from the 
greater difficulty of ascertaining the true relations, — that 
is, of tracing causes to their true effects, and effects to 
their true causes ; and partly from the tendency to these 
being interrupted in future instances, by some new cause, 
in regard to which we cannot calculate either the exist- 
ence or the precise effects. Hence, for example, the 



FIKST TEUTHS. 149 

uncertainty of human laws ; one of the contingencies by 
which they are interrupted, being the chances of evading 
them. If we could conceive a case, in which every 
crime was with certainty detected, and every criminal 
brought to punishment, it is probable that the effect of 
human laws would be nearly as certain as the operation 
of material causes. But the criminal, in the first in- 
stance, calculates on the chances of evading detection, 
and even in the event of detection, of escaping punish- 
ment; and thus the tendency of the wisest laws is con- 
stantly interrupted, in a manner which no human wisdom 
can calculate upon or prevent. There is often a similar 
uncertainty in human character in other situations ; for 
example, in judging how an individual will act in par- 
ticular circumstances, or be influenced by particular 
motives ; for a motive which we have found to induce a 
particular line of conduct in one individual, may fail in 
producing the same result in another, being prevented by 
circumstances in his moral condition, which entirely 
elude our observation. 

Yet there is a uniformity in moral phenomena, which, 
though it may be ascertained with greater difficulty than 
the order of natural phenomena, we calculate upon with 
similar confidence, when it has been ascertained. Thus, 
a man may have acquired such a character for integrity, 
that we rely upon his upright conduct in any situation in 
which he may be placed, with the same confidence with 
which we rely on the uniformity of nature ; and there is 
a man distinguished by veracity and fidelity to his pro- 
mise, of whom we say, in common language, that his 
word is as good as his bond. In such examples as these, 
indeed, our confidence is founded, not upon any laws 
which have been observed in regard to the whole species, 
but on a uniformity which has been observed in regard 
to the individuals, or rather a class to which the indivi- 
duals belong. There are also, however, laws which 
apply to mankind in general, and on which we rely a§ 



150 EEASON. 

far as they go ; namely, principles of conduct in which 
we confide, as regulating every man of a sane mind, 
whatever may be our knowledge of his previous habits of 
judging or acting. It is in this manner, for example, as 
formerly stated, that we regulate our confidence in testi- 
mony. If a man who is either a stranger to us, or bears 
a character of doubtful veracity, relates circumstances 
which tend greatly to promote his own purposes, we cal- 
culate on the probability of fabrication, and reject his 
testimony; and, if we even suspect that he has a purpose 
to serve, a similar impression is produced. If, on the 
contrary, we are satisfied that the circumstances are in- 
different to him, and that he has no purpose to answer, 
we give greater credit to his testimony. If, farther than 
this, we perceive that the statement operates against 
himself, conveying an imputation against his own con- 
duct, or exposing him to contempt, ridicule, or personal 
injury, we are satisfied that nothing could make him 
adhere to such a testimony, but an honest conviction of 
its truth. Under the former circumstances, we believe 
only a man whom we consider as a person of known and 
established veracity; under the latter, we believe any 
man whom we consider to be of a sane mind. Thus, in 
both instances, we proceed upon a certain uniformity of 
moral phenomena ; only that * we refer them to two 
classes, — namely, one which is ascertained to be uni- 
form in regard to the whole species, and another which 
is uniform only in regard to a certain order, that is, all 
men of integrity and veracity. In the one case, we rely 
upon the uniformity in every instance ; in the other, we 
do not rely upon it until we are satisfied that the indivi- 
dual example belongs to that order, in which the other 
kind of moral uniformity has been ascertained. 

There are other inquiries closely connected with the 
uniformity of moral relations ; but at present we must 
allude to them briefly. We have every reason to believe 
that there are moral causes, that is, truths and motives, 



FIRST TRUTHS. 151 

which have a tendency to influence human volition and 
human conduct, with a uniformity similar to that with 
which physical agents produce their actions upon each 
other. These moral causes, indeed, do not operate in 
every instance, or in all circumstances ; but neither do 
physical causes. Substances in chemistry, for example, 
have certain tendencies to act on each other, which are 
uniform and necessary ; but no action takes place, unless 
the substances are placed in certain circumstances which 
are required for bringing these tendencies into operation. 
They must, in the first place, be brought into contact ; 
and, besides this, many of them require other collateral 
circumstances, as a particular temperature, or a particular 
state of concentration or dilution. It is the same with 
moral causes ; their tendencies are uniform, and there 
are principles in the mind of man which these are adapted 
for acting upon. But they require certain circumstances 
in the man on whom they are expected to act, without 
which they produce no influence upon him. It is neces- 
sary, for example, that he be fully informed in regard to 
them as truths ; and that his attention be directed to 
them with such a degree of intensity as shall bring him 
fully under their influence as statements addressed to 
his understanding ; also, that there be a certain healthy 
state of his moral feelings, — for this has a most extensive 
influence on the due operation of moral causes. Without 
these, the most powerful moral causes may produce no 
effect upon a man; as the most active chemical agents 
may fail entirely of their actions, if the substances are 
not placed in the requisite circumstances of temperature, 
dilution, or concentration. 

These considerations seem to bear an important refer- 
ence to a question which has been much argued, namely, 
that respecting liberty, necessity, and the freedom of the 
will. On a subject on which some of the wisest and the 
best of men have been found on opposite sides, I would 
express myself with becoming caution and diffidence ; 



152 REASON. 

but, perhaps, some of the obscurity, in which the question 
has been involved, arises from the want of a clear defini- 
tion of the terms in which it has been argued ; and from 
not fully distinguishing between will or simple volition, 
and desire or inclination. Will, or simple volition, is 
the state of mind which immediately precedes action ; 
and the action following upon this not only is free, but 
it is absolutely impossible to suppose it should be Other- 
wise. Not only is a man free to do what he wills, but 
we cannot conceive a case in which he could exert a 
power of not doing what he wills, or of doing what he 
wills not. Impulse or restraint from without, acting 
upon his bodily organs, could alone interfere with his 
following, in this sense, the tendency of his will, or sim- 
ple volition. The only idea, indeed, that we can form 
of free agency, or freedom of the will, is, that it consists 
in a man being able to do what he wills, or to abstain 
from doing what he wills not. Necessary agency, on the 
other hand, would consist in the man being compelled, 
by a force from without, to do what he wills not, or pre- 
vented from doing what he wills. 

The real bearing of the inquiry does not lie in this 
connexion between the volition and the act, but in the 
origin or cause of the volition, or in the connexion be- 
tween the volition and the desire ; and this will be seen 
to be entirely distinct. A man, for example, may desire, 
or have an inclination to, that which he has not the 
power to will ; because he may be under the influence of 
motives and principles which prevent the inclination 
from being followed by volition, with as absolute a neces- 
sity as we observe in the sequences of natural phenomena. 
Thus, also, we may say to a man of strict integrity and 
virtue, that he has not the power to commit murder or 
robbery, or any act of gross injustice or oppression. He 
may reply that he has the power to do it if he willed : 
and this is granted, for this is free agency ; but it is not 
the question in dispute. We do not say that he has not 



FIRST TRUTHS. 153 

the power to do any or all of these acts, if he willed, hut 
that he has not the power to will such deeds. He is under 
the influence of motives and principles, which make it as 
much a matter of necessity for him not to will such acts, 
as it is for a stone not to rise from the earth's surface 
contrary to its gravity. Such a necessity as this, if we must 
retain the term, so far from being unfavourable to the 
interests of virtue and morals, or opposed to the practice 
of exhorting men to virtue, seems, on the contrary, to 
hold out the strongest encouragement in doing so ; and 
to he, in fact, the only scheme on which we can expect 
an argument or motive to have any influence upon human 
conduct ; for it represents man as possessed of certain 
uniform principles in his nature, which are capable of 
being acted upon by certain moral causes, truths, laws, 
or motives, with a uniformity similar to that which 
we observe in physical phenomena, provided he can be 
brought under their influence, and into the circum- 
stances which are required for their due operation. 
These circumstances are, — that the moral causes, laws, 
motives, or truths, shall be brought before his under- 
standing ; that he shall direct his attention to them with 
suitable intensity ; and that he is free from that degree 
of corruption of his moral feelings, or any of those dis- 
torted moral habits, which we know to produce a most 
extensive influence on the operation of moral causes. To 
suppose a kind of moral liberty opposed to such a neces- 
sity as this, would be to represent man as a being 
possessed of no fixed or uniform principles, — not to be 
calculated upon as to his conduct in any instance, — and 
not capable of being acted upon by any motive or prin- 
ciple except the blind caprice of the moment. To en- 
deavour to act upon such a being, by persuading him to 
virtue or dissuading him from vice, would be like expect- 
ing fixed results in chemistry, by bringing substances 
to act upon each other, the actions of which we had 
previously found to be without any kind of uniformity. 



154 EEASON. 

This is in fact precisely the situation of the maniac, whom, 
accordingly, we never expect to guide or influence by 
motives or arguments, but by external restraint. He 
may act harmlessly, or he may act mischievously ; but 
we never can calculate upon his actions in any one in- 
stance ; we therefore shut him up so as to prevent him 
from being dangerous to the community. 

Necessity, then, as applied to the operation of moral 
causes, appears simply to correspond with the uniformity 
which we observe in the operation of physical causes. 
We calculate that a man of a certain character will act 
in a particular manner in particular circumstances, or 
that he will be acted upon in a certain manner by parti- 
cular truths and motives, when they are presented to 
him, — by a principle of uniformity similar to that with 
which we expect an acid to act in a particular manner 
upon an alkali. The action of the acid we know to be 
uniform, but we know also, that no action will take place 
till the substances are brought fully into contact, and in 
certain circumstances which are required for their action ; 
and the action of moral causes is uniform, but they 
exert no influence on a man till he is fully acquainted 
with them, — directs his attention to them with suitable 
care, — and is besides, in a certain healthy state of moral 
feeling. It is thus that we calculate on the full and 
uniform operation of moral causes on some individuals, 
and not on others ; namely, by having previously ascer- 
tained that the former are in those intellectual and moral 
circumstances which are required for their action. When, 
in another individual, we find these causes fail in their 
natural actions, we endeavour, as far as may be in our 
power, to supply those collateral circumstances, — by in- 
structing him hi the facts, truths, or motives ; — by rousing 
his attention to their importance ; by impressing them 
upon him in their strongest characters, and by all such 
arguments and representations as we think calculated to 
fix the impression. All this we do under a conviction 



FTBST TKUTHS. 155 

that these causes have a certain, fixed, uniform, or neces- 
sary action, in regard to human volition and human con- 
duct ; and it is this conviction which encourages us to 
persevere hi our attempts to bring the individual under 
their influence. If we had not this conviction, we should 
abandon the attempt as altogether hopeless ; because we 
could have no ground on which to form any calculation, 
and no rules to guide us in our measures. Precisely in 
the same manner, when we find a chemical agent fail of 
the effect which we expect from it, we add it in larger 
quantity, or in a state of increased concentration, or at a 
higher temperature, — or with some other change of 
circumstances calculated to favour its action ; and we 
persevere in these measures, under a conviction that its 
action is perfectly uniform or necessary, and will take 
place whenever these circumstances have been provided 
for. On the same principle, we see how blame may 
attach to the intelligent agent in both cases, though the 
actions of the causes are uniform and necessary. Such 
is the action of chemical agents, but blame may attach 
to the chemist who has not provided them in the neces- 
sary circumstances, as to quantity, concentration, and 
temperature. Such is the action of moral causes, — but 
deep guilt may attach to the moral agent who has been 
proof against their influence. There is guilt in igno- 
rance, when knowledge was within his reach ; — there is 
guilt in heedless inattention, when truths and motives of 
the highest interest claimed his serious consideration ; — 
there is guilt in that corruption of his moral feelings which 
impedes the action of moral causes, because this has origin- 
ated in a great measure, in a course of vicious desires and 
vicious conduct, by which the mind, familiarised with vice, 
has gradually lost sight of its malignity. During the whole 
of this course, also, the man felt that he was a free agent ; 
— that he had power to pursue the course which he had 
followed, — and that he had power to refrain from it. 
When a particular desire was first present to his mind, 



156 REASON. 

lie had the power immediately to act with a view to its 
accomplishment;' or he had the power to abstain from 
acting, and to direct his attention more fully to the 
various considerations and motives which were calculated 
to guide his determination. In acting as he did, he not 
only withheld his attention from those truths which 
were thus calculated to operate upon him as a moral 
being, but he did still more direct violence to an impulse 
within, which warned him that he was wandering from 
the path of rectitude. The state of moral feeling which 
gradually results from this habitual violation of the indi- 
cations of conscience, and this habitual neglect of the 
serious consideration of moral causes, every individual 
must feel to be attended with moral guilt. The effect 
of it is not only to prevent the due operation of moral 
causes on his future volitions, but even to vitiate and 
distort the judgment itself respecting the great principles 
of moral rectitude. Without attempting any explanation 
of this remarkable condition of the mental functions, its 
actual existence must be received as a fact in the con- 
stitution of human nature, which cannot be called in 
question; and it offers one of the most remarkable 
phenomena that can be presented to him who turns his 
attention to the moral economy of man. 

Before concluding this incidental allusion to a much 
controverted subject, I may be allowed to remark, that 
the term necessity, as applied to moral phenomena, is 
not fortunate, and perhaps not philosophical ; and some- 
thing would perhaps be gained in conducting the inquiry, 
if, for necessity, we were to substitute uniformity. In 
strict propriety, indeed, the terms necessity and necessary 
ought to be applied only to mathematical truth. Of 
physical relations all that we know is the fact of their 
uniformity ; and it would appear equally philosophical 
to apply the same term to mental phenomena. On this 
principle, therefore, we should say. — that the tendency 
of moral causes or motives is not necessary, but uniform ; 



FIRST TRUTHS. 157 

and that on this depends all our confidence in the uni- 
formity of human character, and in the power of truths, 
motives, or arguments, to produce particular results on 
human conduct. To suppose the mind possessed of a 
power of determining, apart from all this influence of 
moral causes or motives, would be to overthrow this con- 
fidence, and to reduce our whole calculations on human 
character to conjecture and uncertainty. When, indeed, 
we talk of a self-determining power of the will, we seem 
to use a combination of words without any definite 
meaning. For the will is not distinct from the being who 
wills; and to speak of an individual determining his 
will, is only saying, in other words, that he wills. He 
wills some act, for some reason which is known to him- 
self ; if communicated to another, the reason might not 
appear a satisfactory one, — but it is to him the reason 
which induced him to will the act, and this appears to be 
all that we can make of the subject. A power of deter- 
mining without any reason, appears to be not only unphi- 
losophical, but, in point of fact, inapplicable to any con- 
ceivable case. Ignorance, inattention, or gross perversion 
of the moral feelings, may make the worse reason appear 
the better ; but we cannot conceive a case, in which an 
individual could exert a power of determining without 
any reason, or according to what appears to him at the 
time to be a weaker reason, in opposition to one which 
appears a stronger. It will also, I think, be found, that 
the warmest advocates for philosophical liberty, and a 
self-determining power, in actual practice recognise as 
much as others the principle of the uniformity of moral 
causes. Thus, if we find a person acting in a manner 
widely different from that which we expected from him, 
all men concur in saying, " What motive could induce 
him to act in that manner ? " and if we cannot reconcile 
his conduct to any conceivable motive, we say, " It really 
looks like insanity." Another may remark, " His conduct 
indicates a singular want of consideration ; " — thus clearly 



158 REASON. 

recognising the existence of certain motives or moral 
causes which would have led the man into a different line 
of conduct, had he allowed his attention to fix upon them. 
The doctrine of a self-determining power should remove 
every difficulty in such a case, to those who believe in 
it ; but I am not aware that it ever was made use of for 
such a purpose. It will also be found to agree with the 
universal conviction of mankind, that the circumstance, 
which gives to an action the character of merit or de- 
merit, is entirely the motive from which it was done ; 
and that, if we could conceive such a thing as an action 
performed by the impulse of a free self-determining 
power, apart from any influence of motives or moral 
causes, no man of sane mind would for a moment allow 
to such an act the character of virtue. On the contrary, 
it is familiar to every one, that we often find in a man's 
motive an excuse for conduct in which we think he has 
acted wrong. We say, he erred in judgment, but his 
motive was good ; and this mode of reasoning meets with 
the cordial concurrence of the whole mass of mankind. 

The First Truths, or intuitive principles of belief, 
which have been the subject of the preceding observa- 
tions, are of the utmost practical importance, as they 
furnish the true and only answer to many of the sophisms 
of the scholastic philosophy, and to many sceptical argu- 
ments of more modern times. They admit of no other 
evidence than an appeal to the consciousness of every 
man, that he does and must believe them. " We believe 
them," says Dr. Brown, "because it is impossible not to 
believe them." — " In all these cases," says Mr. Stewart, 
" the only account that can be given of our belief is, that 
it forms a necessaiy part of our constitution, against which 
metaphysicians may argue, so as to perplex the judgment, 
but of which it is impossible to divest ourselves for a 
moment, when we are called to employ our reason, either 
in the business of life or in the pursuits of science." 



FIEST TKUTHS. 



159 



It is likewise to be kept in mind, as was formerly- 
stated, that our idea of reasoning necessarily supposes 
the existence of a certain number of truths, which require 
and admit of no evidence. The maxim, indeed, is as old 
as the days of Aristotle, and has never been called in 
question, "that, except some first principles be taken 
for granted, there can be neither reason nor reasoning ; 
that it is impossible that every truth should admit of 
proof, otherwise proof would extend in infinitum, which 
is incompatible with its nature; and that, if ever men 
attempt to prove a first principle, it is because they are 
ignorant of the nature of proof." * As these truths, 
therefore, do not admit of being called in question by any 
sound understanding, neither do they admit of being sup- 
ported by any process of reasoning ; and when paradoxes 
or sophisms in opposition to them are proposed, any 
attempt to argue with such, upon logical principles, only 
leads to discussions as absurd as themselves. Of attempts 
of both kinds, many examples are to be met with among 
the writers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, 
as Des Cartes and Hobbes ; and even some eminent per- 
sons of more modern times are not entirely free from 
them. Thus, Des Cartes, Malebranche and others, 
thought it necessary to prove that external objects, and 
the sentient beings with whom we are connected, have a 
real existence, whether we think of them or not, and are 
not merely ideas in our own minds. Berkeley showed the 
weakness of this argument, and on this founded the well- 
known doctrine by which he denied the real existence of 
all material things. Many of the dogmas of modern 
sophistical writers, such as Mr. Hume, have consisted of 
attempts to overturn, by processes of argument, these 
fundamental or first truths. On the other hand, the 
unsatisfactory nature of some of the replies to these 
sophisms, depends upon the attempts to combat them 

* Aristotle's Metaphysics, Book iv. 



160 EEASON. 

having been made by reasonings, of -which the subject is 
not susceptible ; for these principles admit of no proof 
by processes of reasoning, and consequently, are in no 
degree affected by demonstrations of the fallacy of attempts 
to establish them by such processes. An interesting 
illustration of this has been preserved by Mr. Stewart, in 
a correspondence between Mr. Hume and Sir Gilbert 
Elliot.* "From the reply to this letter," says Mr. 
Stewart, "by Mr. Hume's very ingenious and accom- 
plished correspondent, we learn, that he had drawn from 
Mr. Hume's metaphysical discussions, the only sound and 
philosophical inference ; — that the lameness of the proofs 
offered by Des Cartes and his successors, of some funda- 
mental truths, universally acknowledged by mankind, 
proceeded, not from any defect in the evidence, but, on 
the contrary, from their being self-evident, and conse- 
quently unsusceptible of demonstration." The same view 
of Mr. Hume's sceptical reasonings was taken by other 
eminent persons, by whom his system was attacked, — 
particularly Reid, Beattie, and Oswald ; and on the Con- 
tinent, the nature and importance of these first truths 
had been, at an earlier period, illustrated in a full and 
able manner by Father Buffier. 

Various characters have been proposed, by which these 
primary and fundamental truths may be distinguished. 
One of those given by Father Buffier appears to be the 
best, and to be alone sufficient to identify them. It is, 
that their practical influence extends even to persons who 
affect to dispute their authority ; in other words, that, in 
all the affairs of life, the most sceptical philosopher acts, 
as much as the mass of mankind, upon the absolute belief 
of these truths. Let a person of this description, for 
example, be contending very keenly, in regard to some- 
thing which deeply concerns his interest or his comfort, 

* Introductory Essay to the Appendix of the Encyclopaedia Bri- 
tannica. 



FIEST TEUTHS. 161 

— he would scarcely be satisfied by being told that the 
thing about which he contends has no real existence, and 
that he who contends about it so eagerly is himself a non- 
entity, or, at best, nothing more than an idea. Let him 
be taking cognizance of an offence committed against him 
ten years ago, — he never doubts that he is still the person 
against whom the offence was committed. Let him lay 
plans for future advantage or comfort, — it is done under 
a full conviction that he is still to continue the individual 
who may enjoy them. Has a, building started up on his 
premises, which he did not expect to see, — he immediately 
asks, who ordered the masons, and would be very ill satis- 
fied by being told that the thing had appeared without 
any known cause, by a fortuitous combination of atoms. 
However much he may reason to the contrary, he shows 
no doubt, in his own practice, that every event must have 
an adequate cause. The same mode of reasoning will 
be seen to apply to the other principles which belong 
to the class under consideration, — namely, that those 
who argue against them, act in all cases on a belief of 
their truth. 

The distinction between a process of reasoning, and 
the act of the mind in arriving at these fundamental and 
intuitive truths, is a principle of the utmost practical 
importance. For a chain of correct reasoning requires 
logical habits, and a certain cultivation of the mental 
powers ; and, consequently, it is confined to a compara- 
tively small number of mankind. But the process here 
referred to is the spontaneous and immediate induction 
of the untutored mind, and the correct exercise of it re- 
quires only that the mind shall not be debased by 
depravity, nor bewildered by the refinements of a false 
philosophy. The truths which we derive from it, accord- 
ingly, do not concern the philosopher alone, but are of 
daily and essential importance to the whole mass of man- 
kind. Let us take, for example, the principle referred 
to under the fifth head, — our intuitive conviction that 



162 EEASON. 

every change or event must have an adequate cause. 
This is a principle of daily application, and one which is 
acted upon with absolute confidence in the ordinary affairs 
of life by all classes of men. By the immediate and un- 
conscious exercise of it, we infer the skill of one workman 
from works indicating skill, and the vigour of another 
from works indicating strength. We infer from every 
work, not only a cause, but a cause which, both in degree 
and in kind, is exactly proportioned to the effect produced. 
From a chronometer, which varies only a second in a 
year, we infer exquisite skill in the artist ; and from the 
construction of the pyramids of Egypt, the united strength 
of a multitude of men. We never suppose for a moment 
that the minute skill of the artist raised the pyramid, or 
that the united force of the multitude constructed the 
chronometer; still less, that these monuments of art 
started into their present condition without a cause. We 
infer with absolute certainty in both cases an adequate 
cause ; that is, a cause, distinguished, in the one case, 
by design and mechanical power, — in the other, by design, 
adaptation, and exquisite skill. 

The principle which is thus acted upon, in the ordinary 
affairs of life, with a conviction of infallible certainty, is 
precisely the same by which, from the stupendous works 
of creation, we infer, by the most simple step of reason- 
ing, the existence of a great First Cause. This cause, 
also, we conclude to be a designing and intelligent mind, 
infinite in wisdom, and boundless in power; and, by a very 
slight and natural extension of the same principle, we 
arrive with equal certainty at the conviction of this cause 
being the first, — not arising out of anything preceding 
it, consequently self-existent and eternal. All this is 
not such a process of reasoning as requires logical 
habits, and admits of debate, deliberation, or doubt ; 
the metaphysician may bewilder himself in its very 
simplicity ; but the uncontaminated mind finds its way 
to the conclusion with unerring certainty, and with a 



LAWS OF INVESTIGATION. 163 

conviction, -which is felt to be not only satisfactory, but 
irresistible. 

When we proceed, from these first or intuitive articles 
of belief, to the farther investigation of truth in any de- 
partment of knowledge, various mental processes are 
brought into operation ; but, in regard to all of them, 
reason is our ultimate guide, in judging whether they are 
performed in a legitimate manner, and upon principles 
calculated to lead to the discovery of truth. These pro- 
cesses may be chiefly referred to the following heads : — 

I. To make a careful collection of facts relating to the 
subject; and to abstain from deducing any conclusions 
till we have before us such a series as seems calculated 
to warrant them. The first operation of reason therefore 
is, to judge when we have a sufficient collection of facts 
for this purpose. 

II. To separate from the mass those facts which are 
connected with it incidentally, and to retain those only 
which we have reason to consider as uniform and essential. 
In some sciences this is accomplished by repeated and 
varied experiments ; and in those departments which do 
not admit of this, it is done by cautious and extensive 
observation. Our object in both cases is to ascertain how 
many of the circumstances observed, and what particular 
combinations of them uniformly accompany each other, 
or are really connected with the effects which are pro- 
duced. In this careful clearing of our statement from 
all incidental combinations, consists that faithful observa- 
tion of nature which forms the first step in every scientific 
investigation. It is opposed to two errors, both equally 
to be avoided, namely, leaving out of view, or not assign- 
ing an adequate value to, important and essential facts ; 
and giving a place and an importance to those which are 
incidental and trivial. In every scientific investigation, 

m2 



164 KEASON. 

this is a process of the utmost importance ; and there is 
another nearly connected with it, namely, to judge of the 
authenticity of the facts. This also is a mental process 
of the utmost delicacy. In conducting it, there are two 
extremes from which the exercise of sound judgment 
ought equally to guard us, namely, receiving facts upon 
imperfect evidence, and rejecting those which have a 
sufficient title to credit ; in other words, credulity and 
scepticism. Both these extremes are equally unworthy 
of a mind which is guided by sound reason. 

III. To compare facts with each other so as to trace 
their resemblances, or to ascertain those characters or 
properties in which a certain number of facts or sub- 
stances agree. We thus arrange them into classes, 
genera, and species. 

IV. To compare facts or events with each other, so as 
to trace their relations and sequences ; especially that 
relation of uniform sequence, on which is founded our 
notion of cause and effect. This delicate and most im- 
portant process consists entirely in a patient observation 
of facts, and of their relation to each other. When, in a 
certain number of instances, we find two events following 
one another without any exception, we come to consider 
the sequence as uniform, and call the one cause and 
the other effect ; and when, in other instances, we are 
disappointed in finding such a succession, this confidence 
is shaken, unless we can discover a cause by which the 
sequence was interrupted. Reason, acting upon exten- 
sive observation, must here guide us, — on the one hand 
to judge of the uniformity of the sequences, and, on the 
other, to account for apparent deviations. 

V. To review an extensive collection of facts, so as to 
discover some general fact common to the whole. This 
is the process which we call generalising, or the induction 



LAWS OF INVESTIGATION. 165 

of a general principle. The result of it is the last and 
greatest object of human science, and that to which 
all the other steps are preliminary and subservient. An 
ordinary mind is satisfied with the observation of facts as 
they pass before it, and those obvious relations which 
obtrude themselves upon its notice ; but the philosopher 
analyses the phenomena, and thus discovers their more 
minute relations. His genius is distinguished above the 
industry of the mere observer of facts, when he thus 
traces principles of accordance among facts which, to the 
vulgar eye, appear remote and dissimilar. A remarkable 
example of this is familiar to every one. Between the 
fall of an apple from a tree and the motions of the 
heavenly bodies, a common mind would have been long 
ere it discovered any kind of relation ; but on such a 
relation Newton founded those grand principles by which 
he brought to light the order and harmony of the universe. 
For it was this simple fact that first suggested to him the 
great principle of physical science, that matter attracts 
matter in the reciprocal ratio of their masses. 

In a practical view, these processes may be referred to 
three heads, — collecting authentic facts, — tracing causa- 
tion, — and deducing general principles. Here various 
mental operations are brought into action, especially 
attention, memory, conception, and abstraction ; but it 
is the province of reason to judge whether these are 
conducted in a legitimate manner, or, in other words, to 
distinguish truth from falsehood. It may therefore be 
important to keep in mind what those circumstances are 
in which consist truth and falsehood, in reference to any 
department of knowledge. 

I. In collecting facts, it is required, in the first place, 
that they shall be authentic ; secondly, that the state- 
ment shall include a full and fair view of all the circum- 
stances which ought to be taken into our investigation of 



166 EEASON. 

the case ; and, thirdly, that it shall not include any facts 
which are not connected with the subject, or whose con- 
nexion is only incidental. When we have thus formed 
a collection of facts, authentic, full, and essential, the 
statement, in as far as relates to the facts, constitutes 
truth. When any of the facts are not authentic ; when 
important facts are left out of the statement, or misrepre- 
sented; or when facts are taken into it, which, though 
true, have no real relation to the subject, — this constitutes 
fallacy or falsehood. 

II. In considering two events as connected in the 
manner of cause and effect; — when this relation is 
deduced from a full and extensive observation of the 
sequence being uniform, — this is truth. When it is 
assumed upon inadequate grounds, that is, from the 
observation of a connexion which is only incidental or 
limited, — this is either falsehood or hypothesis ; for the 
relation may be assumed upon grounds which, though 
not actually false, are yet not sufficient to establish it as 
true ; namely, on observation which is too limited in 
extent. This is conjecture or hypothesis ; and it is, in 
some cases, a legitimate process, provided it be used only 
as a guide for farther observation, and be not received as 
true, until such observation shall have been sufficient to 
confirm it. 

III. In deducing from a large collection of facts a 
general fact or general principle ; — when this induction 
is made from a full examination of all the individual 
cases to which the general fact is meant to apply, and 
actually does apply to them all, — this is truth. When it 
is deduced from a small number of observations, and 
extended to others to which it does not apply, — this is 
falsehood. As in the former case, however, a general 
principle may be deduced hypothetically, or by conjec- 
ture ; that is, it may be assumed as general so far as we 



LAWS OF INVESTIGATION. 167 

at present know. This process is often legitimate and 
useful as a guide in farther inquiry, if it be employed 
for this purpose only, and the result be not received as 
truth until it be established by sufficient observation. 
A great and not unfrequent error is, that, when such 
hypothetical principles are proposed in a confident 
manner, they are very often received as true : and the 
consequence is, that a degree of observation is required 
for exposing their fallacy, perhaps as extensive as, if 
properly employed, might have been sufficient to discover 
the truth. Those who are acquainted with the history of 
medical doctrines will be best able to judge of the accu- 
racy of this observation, and to estimate the extensive 
influence which this error has had in retarding the 
progress of medical science. 

The proper rules to be observed in deducing a general 
principle, are therefore opposed, in the first place, to the 
error of hasty generalising, or deducing such a principle 
from a limited number of facts. They are farther 
opposed to another error, prevalent in the hypothetical 
systems of the old philosophy, by which phenomena were 
referred to principles altogether fictitious and imaginary, 
or, in other words, which could not be shown to be facts. 
In opposition to both these errors, the great rule of 
induction in modern science is, that the principle which 
is assumed as general shall be itself a fact, and that the 
fact shall be universal. Thus, what we call the law of 
gravitation, is primarily nothing more than the fact, that 
bodies fall to the earth ; and that this is true of all bodies, 
without a single exception. Of the cause of this fact, or 
the hidden principle on which it depends, we know 
nothing; and all the investigations of Newton were 
carried on independently even of the attempt to discover 
it. " When Newton," says Mr. Stewart, " showed that 
the same law of gravity extends to the celestial spaces, 
and that the power by which the moon and planets are 
retained in their orbits, is precisely similar in its effects 



168 REASON. 

to that which is manifested in the fall of a stone, he left 
the efficient cause of gravity as much in the dark as ever, 
and only generalised still farther the conclusions of his 
predecessors." 

False investigation, therefore, may be briefly referred 
to three heads, — fallacies in facts, — false induction, — 
and false reasoning. 

I. Fallacies in Facts. A statement of facts is 
fallacious, when any of the alleged facts are not true, 
— when it includes facts not relating to the subject, 
— and when important facts are omitted. This last 
error is most frequently exemplified in those cases in 
which facts are collected on one side of a question only, 
or in support of a particular doctrine. To the same 
class we may likewise add those instances in which 
statements are received as facts, which are not facts but 
opinions. 

II. False Induction includes false causation and false 
generalisation. False causation is, when two events are 
considered as cause and effect without sufficient reason, 
and which are, in fact, only incidentally combined : — 
when events are considered as cause and effect which are 
only joint effects of a common cause : and when, of two 
events really connected as cause and effect, we mistake 
the order of the sequence, considering that as the 
cause which is really the effect, and that as the effect 
which is really the cause. The error of false causation 
is most apt to occur in those sciences in which there is 
peculiar difficulty in tracing effects to their true causes, 
and causes to their true effects. These, as formerly 
mentioned, are exemplified by medicine and political 
economy. A physician, for example, ascribes the cure of 
a patient to a remedy which he has taken, though it 
perhaps had no influence on his recovery : and a political 



KEASONING. 169 

declaim er refers some circumstance of national distress 
or commercial embarrassment to certain public measures, 
■winch happened to correspond in time, but were in fact 
entirely unconnected. False generalisation, again, as 
was lately stated, includes general principles which are 
deduced from a limited number of facts ; and hypotheses 
which cannot be shown to be facts, but are entirely 
fictitious and imaginary. 

III. False Seasoning. This consists either in 
applying to the explanation of facts, principles which 
are unsound, — in applying sound principles to facts 
which have no relation to them, — or in deducing con- 
clusions which do not follow from these facts and 
principles. 

Reasoning is usually divided into two parts, which 
have been called the intuitive and the discursive. Intui- 
tive reasoning, or intuitive judgment, is when the truth 
of a proposition is perceived whenever it is announced. 
This applies to axioms or self-evident truths, — and to 
first truths or fundamental articles of belief, formerly 
referred to, which rest upon the absolute conviction of 
the whole mass of mankind. In discursive reasoning, 
again, some of these axioms or first truths are applied 
to particular facts, so as to deduce from the connection 
new conclusions. Thus, when we say that " every event 
must have an adequate cause," we state a principle of 
intuitive judgment. When we then collect from the 
phenomena of nature, various examples of adaptation 
and design, and, applying that intuitive principle to 
these facts, arrive at the conclusion that the universe is 
the work of an intelligent and designing First Cause, — 
this is discursive reasoning. The new principle or con- 
clusion thus deduced may be applied in a similar manner 
to the deduction of farther conclusions, and so on through 
what we call a chain of reasoning. Any particular piece 



170 REASON. 

of reasoning, then, may generally be resolved into the 
following elements. 

1. Certain principles or propositions which are stated 
either as axioms, as first truths, or as deductions from 
some former process of reasoning. 

2. Certain facts or relations of facts, derived either 
from observation or testimony, which are stated as true, 
and to which the principles are to be in some manner 
applied. 

3. Certain new conclusions deduced from the appli- 
cation of the principles to the facts. 

In examining the validity of such a process, we have 
not only to attend to the correctness of the principles 
and the authenticity of the alleged facts, but likewise to 
inquire whether the facts are of that class to which the 
principles are legitimately applicable : for the principles 
may be true, and the facte authentic, and yet the reasoning 
may be unsound, from the principles being applied to 
facts to which they have no relation. 

This method of examining, separately, the elements 
of an argument, appears to correspond with the ancient 
syllogism ; and this, accordingly, when divested of its 
systematic shape, is the mental process which we per- 
form, whenever we either state, or examine any piece of 
reasoning. If I say, for example, " the greatest kings 
are mortal, for they are but men;" I appear to state a 
very simple proposition ; but it is in fact a process of 
reasoning which involves all the elements of the syllogism; 
namely. 

1. The general fact or proposition, that all men are 
mortal. 

2. The fact referable to the class of facts which are 
included under this proposition, — that kings are men. 

3. The deduction from this connection, that kings are 
mortal. 

For the validity and efficacy of such a process, two 
things are necessary: 



SEASONING. 17] 

1. That the general proposition which forms the first 
part of the statement, or, in logical language, the major 
proposition, be absolutely and universally true, or true 
without exception in regard to facts of a certain class, — 
and be admitted as such by those to whom the reasoning 
is addressed. 

2. That the fact referred to it, or the minor proposi- 
tion, be admitted or proved to be one of that class of facts 
which are included under the general proposition. 

The conclusion then follows by a very simple process. 
If either of the two former propositions be deficient or 
untrue, the argument is unsound. Thus, if I had varied 
the statement as follows, — " Angels, like other human 
beings, are mortal;" — there is a fallacy which, when 
put into the syllogistic form, is immediately apparent; 
thus, 

All human beings are mortal, 
Angels are human beings; 
Therefore, angels are mortal. 

The general or major proposition here is true ; but the 
minor is not one of the class of facts which are included 
under it ; therefore the conclusion is false. If I had said 
again, " Angels, like other created beings, are mortal;" 
the fallacy is equally apparent, though from a different 
source; thus, 

All created beings are mortal, 
Angels are created beings ; 
Therefore, angels are mortal. 

Here the minor proposition is true, or is a fact included 
under the first ; but the first, or major, is not true, for 
we have no ground to believe that all created beings are 
mortal. On the other hand, when a general fact is 
assumed as true of a certain class of cases, we must not 
assume the converse as true of those which are not in- 
cluded in the class ; thus, from the proposition, that all 
human beings are mortal, we are not entitled to infer 



172 EEASON. 

that angels, who are not human beings, are immortal. 
Whether this conclusion be true or not, the argument is 
false ; because the conclusion does not arise out of the 
premises; — for, from the admitted general fact, that 
human beings are mortal, it does not follow, that all who 
are not human beings are not mortal. Yet this will be 
found a mode of fallacious reasoning of very frequent 
occurrence. The rule to be kept in mind for avoiding 
such fallacies is, — that a general truth, which applies in- 
variably to a certain class, may be applied to any indivi- 
dual which can be shown to be included in that class : — 
but that we are not entitled to extend it to any which 
cannot be shown to belong to the class ; — and that we 
are not to assume the reverse to be true of those which 
do not belong to it. On the other hand, we are not to 
assume a property as belonging to a class, because we 
have ascertained it to belong to a certain number of in- 
dividuals. This error comes under another part of our 
subject, and has been already alluded to under the head 
of false generalisation. The syllogism, therefore, cannot 
properly be considered an engine for the discovery of 
truth, but rather for enabling us to judge of the applica- 
tion of, and deductions from, truths previously ascer- 
tained. For, before we can construct such a process as 
constitutes the syllogism, we require to have premised 
that most important process of investigation, by which a 
fact is ascertained to be general in regard to all the indi- 
viduals of a class, — and likewise, that certain individuals 
specified in the argument belong to this class. Thus the 
syllogism is nothing more than that process of mind 
which we exercise every time when we examine the vali- 
dity of an argument, though we may not always put it 
into this systematic form. And yet there may often be 
advantage in doing so, as it enables us to examine the 
elements of the argument more distinctly apart. It 
is related of an eminent English barrister, afterwards 
a distinguished judge, that, on one occasion, he was 



REASONING. 173 

completely puzzled by an argument adduced by his oppo- 
nent in an important case, and that he did not detect the 
fallacy, till he went home and put it into the form of a 
syllogism. Though a syllogism, therefore, may not lead 
to any discovery of truth, it may be an important instru- 
ment in the detection of sophistry, by directing the 
attention, distinctly and separately, to the various ele- 
ments which compose a statement or an argument, and 
enabling us to detect the part in which the sophistry is 
involved. 

In every process of reasoning there are two distinct 
objects of attention, or circumstances to be examined, 
before we admit the validity of the argument. These 
are, — the premises or data which the reasoner assumes, 
and which he expects us to admit as true ; — and the 
conclusions which he proposes to found upon these 
premises. The premises again consist of three parts, 
which we require to examine separately and rigidly. 
These are, 

1. Certain statements which he brings forward as facts, 
and which he expects to be admitted as such. 

2. Certain principles or propositions which he assumes 
as first truths, or articles of belief universally admitted. 

3. Certain other propositions which he refers to, as 
deductions from former processes of investigation, or pro- 
cesses of reasoning. 

If the statements referable to these three heads are 
admitted as true, the argument proceeds, and we have 
then only to judge of the validity or correctness of his 
farther deductions. If they are not at once admitted, 
the argument cannot proceed till we are satisfied on these 
preliminary points. If we do not admit his facts, we 
require him to go back to the evidence on which they 
rest. If we do not admit the general propositions which 
he assumes,' we require the processes of reasoning or 
investigation on which these are founded. When we 
are at last agreed upon these premises, we proceed to 



174 REASON. 

judge of the conclusions which he proposes to deduce 
from them. 

The circumstances, now referred to, may be considered 
as the essential parts of a process of reasoning, in a 
logical view ; but there is another point which we require 
to keep carefully in mind in examining such a process, 
and that is, the use of terms. Much of the confusion 
and perplexity in reasoning consists in the ambiguity of 
the terms ; this is referable to three heads, namely : I. 
Terms of a vague and indefinite character, the precise 
import of which has not been defined. 2. Terms em- 
ployed in a sense, in some respect different from their 
common and recognised acceptation. 3. Varying the 
import of a term, so as to use it in different meanings in 
different parts of the same argument ; or employing it at 
different times, in different degrees of comprehension and 
extension. 

In examining the validity of a process of reasoning, 
then, the mental operation which we ought to perform 
may be guided by the following considerations : — 

1. What statements does the author propose as mat- 
ters of fact ; — are these authentic ; are they all really 
bearing upon, or connected with the subject ; do they 
comprise a full and fair view of all the facts which ought 
to be brought forward in reference to the inquiry ; or 
have we reason to suspect that any of them have been 
disguised or modified, — that important facts have been 
omitted or kept out of view, — that the author has not 
had sufficient opportunities of acquiring the facts which 
he ought to have been possessed of, — or that he has been 
collecting facts on one side of a question, or in support 
of a particular opinion. 

2. What propositions are assumed, either as first or 
intuitive truths, or as deductions arising out of former 
processes of investigation ; and are we satisfied that these 
are all legitimate and correct. — In particular, does the 



A PROCESS OF REASONING. 175 

author make any statement in regard to two or more 
events being connected as cause and effect ; and is this 
connection assumed on sufficient grounds ; — does he 
assume any general principle as applicable to a certain 
class of facts ; is this principle in itself a fact, and does 
it really apply to all the cases which he means to include 
under it ; — have we any reason to believe that it has been 
deduced from an insufficient number of facts, — or is it a 
mere fictitious hypothesis, founded upon a principle which 
cannot be proved to have a real existence. 

3. Do these assumed principles and facts really 
belong to the same subject, — or, in other words, do 
the facts belong to that class to which the principles 
apply. 

4. Are the leading terms which he employs fully and 
distinctly defined as to their meaning ; does he employ 
them in their common and recognised acceptation ; and 
does he uniformly use them in the same sense ; or does 
he seem to attach different meanings to the same term 
in different parts of his argument. 

5. What are the new conclusions which he deduces 
from the whole view of the subject; are these correct 
and valid ; and do they really follow from the premises 
laid down in the previous parts of his argument. For, 
on this head it is always to be kept in mind, that a con- 
clusion may be true, while it does not follow from the 
argument which has been brought to prove it : in such a 
case, the argument is unsound. 

Much of the confusion, fallacy, and sophistry of 
reasoning arises from these points not being sufficiently 
attended to, and distinctly and rigidly investigated. An 
argument may appear fair and consecutive, but, when we 
rigidly examine it, we may find, that the reasoner has, 
in his premises, contrived to introduce some statement, 
which is not true in point of fact, or some bold general 
position, which is not correct, or not proved ; or that he 
has left out some fact, or some principle, which ought to 



176 EEASON. 

have been brought forward in a prominent manner, as 
closely connected with the inquiry. Hence the necessity 
for keeping constantly in view the various sources of 
fallacy to which every process of reasoning is liable, and 
for examining the elements rigidly and separately, before 
we admit the conclusion. 

A process of reasoning is to be distinguished from a 
process of investigation ; and both may be illustrated in 
the following manner. All reasoning must be founded 
upon facts, and the ascertained relations of these facts to 
each other. The nature of these relations has already 
been mentioned, as referable to the various heads of 
resemblance, cause, effect, &c. The statement of an 
ascertained relation of two facts to each other, is called a 
proposition, such as, — that A is equal to B ; — that C has 
a close resemblance to D ; — that E is the cause of F, &c. 
These statements, propositions, or ascertained relations, 
are discovered by processes of investigation. In a process 
of reasoning, again, we take a certain number of such 
propositions or ascertained relations, and deduce from 
them certain other truths or relations, arising out of the 
mutual connection of some of these propositions to each 
other. Thus, if I state as propositions ascertained by 
processes of investigation, that A is equal to B, — and 
that B is equal to C ; — I immediately decide by a single 
step of reasoning, that A is equal to C, in consequence 
of the mutual relation which both A and C have to B. 
Such a process may be rendered more complicated in 
two ways : 

1. By the number of such ascertained relations which 
we require to bear in mind and compare with each other, 
before we arrive at the conclusion. Thus, the relation 
that A is equal to E, might rest on such a series of rela- 
tions as the following : — A is equal to B ; B is the double 
of C ; C is the half of D ; D is equal to E ; therefore A 
is equal to E. 

2. By propositions, which are the conclusions of one 



A PROCESS OF REASONING. 177 

or more steps in a process, becoming the premises in a 
subsequent step. Thus, I may take as one process, — A 
is equal to B, and B is equal to C ; therefore A is equal 
to C ; — and, as a distinct process, — C is equal to D, and 
D is equal to E ; therefore C is equal to E. The con- 
clusions from these two processes I then take as the 
premises in a third process, — thus : it has been proved 
that A is equal to C, and that C is equal to E ; therefore 
A is equal to E. 

In examining the validity of such processes, there are 
two circumstances or objects of inquiry which we ought 
to keep constantly in view. (1.) Have we confidence in 
the accuracy of the alleged facts, and ascertained rela- 
tions which form the premises: — Can we rely on the 
process of investigation by which it is said to have been 
ascertained that A is equal to B, and that B is equal to 
C, &c. (2.) Are the various propositions in the series so 
related as to bring out a new truth or new relation. For 
it is to be kept in mind, that a series of propositions may 
all be true, and yet lead to nothing, — such propositions, 
for example, as that A is equal to B, — C is equal to D, 
— E is equal to F. There is here no mutual relation, 
and no new truth arises out of the series. But when I 
say, — A is equal to B, and B is equal to C, a new truth 
is immediately disclosed, in consequence of the relation 
which both A and C have to B ; namely, that A is 
equal to C. 

Inventive genius, in regard to processes of reasoning, 
consists in finding out relations or propositions which are 
thus capable of disclosing new truths or new relations ; 
and in placing them in that order which is calculated to 
show how these new relations arise out of them. This 
is the exercise of a reflecting mind ; and there may be 
much acquired knowledge, that is, many facts accumu- 
lated by memory alone, without any degree of this exer- 
cise or habit of reflection. But both are required for 
forming a well-cultivated mind ; — the memory must be 



178 REASON. 

stored with information, that is, ascertained facts, and 
ascertained relations ; and the power of reflection must 
be habituated to discover new truths or new relations, by 
a comparison of these facts and ascertained relations with 
each other. For the discovery of new truths may consist 
either of new facts, or of new relations among facts 
previously known. Thus it might happen, that we had 
long been familiar with two facts, without being aware 
that they had any particular connection. If we were 
then to ascertain, that the one of these was the cause of 
the other, it would be a real and important discovery of 
a new truth, though it would consist only of a new 
relation between facts which had long been known to us. 
A process of reasoning, as we have seen, consists of 
two parts, namely, the premises and the conclusion 
deduced from them. If the premises be admitted as 
true, the remaining part of the process becomes com- 
paratively simple. But it often happens, that a reasoner 
must begin by establishing his premises. This is most 
remarkably exemplified in what we call a chain of 
reasoning, consisting of numerous distinct arguments or 
steps, so arranged that the conclusion from one step 
becomes an essential part of the premises in the next ; 
and this may be continued through a long series. The 
process then becomes much more complicated, and, in 
judging of the accuracy of the reasoning, we require to 
examine carefully every part of it as we proceed, to guard 
against the introduction of fallacy. Without this atten- 
tion, it may often happen, that the more advanced parts 
of an argument may appear fair and consecutive, while a 
fallacy has been allowed to creep into some part of it, 
which, in fact, vitiates the whole. In the preceding 
observations, I have endeavoured to point out some of 
the leading cautions to be observed in this respect, espe- 
cially in regard to the admission of facts, the assumption 
of causation, and the deduction of general principles ; 
and also the sources of fallacy to be kept in view in 



FALLACIES IN REASONING. 179 

conducting these processes. But there is another class of 
fallacies, which, though less immediately connected with 
our inquiries, it may be right briefly to point out in rela- 
tion to this subject. These are what may be called logical 
fallacies, or perversions of reasoning. In regard to them, 
as well as to those formerly mentioned, it is to be kept 
in mind, that however obvious they may appear when 
simply stated, this is by no means the case when they 
are skilfully involved in a long process of reasoning. 
The fallacies of this class may be chiefly referred to the 
following heads : — 

I. When a principle is assumed, which in fact amounts 
to the thing to be proved ; slightly disguised, perhaps, by 
some variation in the terms. This is commonly called 
Petitio Principii, or begging the question. When simply 
stated, it appears a fallacy not likely to be admitted ; but 
will be found one of very frequent occurrence. It is 
indeed remarkable to observe the facility with which a 
dogma, when it has been boldly and confidently stated, 
is often admitted by numerous readers, without a single 
inquiry into the evidence on which it is founded. 

II. When a principle is assumed without proof; when 
this is employed to prove something else ; and this is 
again applied, in some way, in support of the first- 
assumed principle. This is called reasoning in a circle; 
and the difficulty of detecting it is often in proportion to 
the extent of the circle, or the number of principles 
which are thus made to hang upon one another. 

III. A frequent source of fallacy is, when a reasoner 
assumes a principle, and then launches out into various 
illustrations and analogies, which are artfully made to 
bear the appearance of proofs. The cautions to be kept 
in mind in such a case are, that the illustrations may be 
useful, and the analogies may be of importance, provided 

n 2 



180 KEASON. 

the principle has been proved ; but that, if it has not 
been proved, the illustrations must go for nothing, and 
even analogies seldom have any weight which can be 
considered as of the nature of evidence. Fallacies of 
this class are most apt to occur in the declamations of 
public speakers ; and, when they are set off with all the 
powers of eloquence, it is often difficult to detect them. 
The questions which the hearer should propose to him- 
self in such cases, are, — does this really contain any proof 
bearing upon the subject, or is it mere illustration and 
analogy, in itself proving nothing. If so, has the reasoner 
previously established his principle ; or has he assumed 
it, and trusted to these analogies as his proofs. 

IV. A fallacy somewhat analogous to the preceding, 
consists in arguing for or against a doctrine, on the ground 
of its supposed tendency, leaving out of view the primary 
question of its truth. Thus, a speculator in theology 
will contend, in regard to a doctrine which he opposes, 
that it is derogatory to the character of the Deity : and, 
respecting another which he brings forward, that it pre- 
sents the Deity in an aspect more accordant with the 
benignity of his character. The previous question in all 
such cases, is, — not what is most accordant with our no- 
tions respecting the divine character, — but what is truth. 

V. When a principle which is true of one case, or one 
class of cases, is extended by analogy to others, which 
differ in some important particulars. The caution to be 
observed here is, to inquire strictly whether the cases 
are analogous, or whether there exists any difference 
which makes the principle not applicable. We have for- 
merly alluded to a remarkable example of this fallacy, in 
notions relating to the properties of matter being applied 
to mind, without attention to the fact, that the cases are 
so distinct as to have nothing in common. An example 
somewhat analogous is found in Mr. Hume's objection 



FALLACIES IN SEASONING. 181 

to miracles, that they are violations of the established 
order of nature. The cases, we have seen, are not 
analogous; for miracles do not refer to the common 
course of nature, but to the operation of an agency alto- 
gether new and peculiar. Arguments founded upon 
analogy, therefore, require to be used with the utmost 
caution, when they are employed directly for the discovery 
or the establishment of truth. But there is another pur- 
pose to which they may be applied, with much greater 
freedom, — namely, for repelling objections. Thus, if we 
find a person bringing objections against a particular 
doctrine, it is a sound and valid mode of reasoning to 
contend, that he receives doctrines which rest upon the 
same kind of evidence ; or that similar objections might 
be urged, with equal force, against truths which it is im- 
possible to call in question. It is in this manner that 
the argument from analogy is employed in the valuable 
work of Bishop Butler. He does not derive from the 
analogy of nature any direct argument in support of 
natural or revealed religion ; but shows that many of the 
objections, which are urged against the truths of religion, 
might be brought against circumstances in the economy 
and course of nature which are known and undoubted 
facts. 

VI. A fallacy the reverse of the former is used by 
sophistical writers ; namely, when two cases are strictly 
analogous, they endeavour to prove that they are not so, 
pointing out trivial differences, not calculated in any 
degree to weaken the force of the analogy. 

VII. When a true general principle is made to apply 
exclusively to one fact or one class of facts, while it is 
equally true of various others. This is called, in logical 
language, the non-distribution of the middle term. In 
an example given by logical writers, one is supposed to 
maintain that com is necessary for life, because food is 



182 REASON. 

necessary for life, and corn is food. It is true that food 
is necessary for life ; but this does not apply to any one 
particular kind of food : it means only, that food of some 
kind or other is so. When simply stated, the fallacy of 
such a position is at once obvious, but it may be intro- 
duced into an argument, in such a manner as not to be 
so immediately detected. 

VIII. When an acknowledged proposition is inverted, 
and the converse assumed to be equally true. We may 
say, for example, that a badly-governed country must be 
distressed ; but we are not entitled to assume that eveiy 
distressed country is badly governed ; for there may be 
many other sources of national distress. I may say, — 
" all wise men live temperately ; " but it does not follow 
that every man who lives temperately is a wise man. 
This fallacy was formerly referred to, under the syllogism. 
It is, at the same time, to be kept in mind, that some 
propositions do admit of being inverted and still remain 
equally true. This holds most remarkably of propositions 
which are universally negative, as in an example given 
by writers on logic. — " No ruminating animal is a beast 
of prey." It follows, as equally true, that no beast of 
prey ruminates. But if I were to vary the proposition 
by saying, " all animals which do not ruminate are beasts 
of prey," this does not arise out of the former statement, 
— and it is obviously false. 

IX. A frequent source of fallacy, among sophistical 
writers, consists in boldly applying a character to a class 
of facts, in regard to which it carries a general aspect of 
truth, without attention to important distinctions, by 
which the statement requires to be modified. Thus, it 
has been objected to our belief of the miracles of the 
sacred writings, that they rest upon the evidence of testi- 
mony, and that testimony is fallacious. Now, when we 
speak of testimony in general, we may say, with an 



FALLACIES IN REASONING. 183 

appearance of truth, that it is fallacious ; but, in point of 
fact, testimony is to be referred to various species ; and, 
though a large portion of these may be fallacious, there 
is a species of testimony on which we rely with absolute 
confidence ; — that is, we feel it to be as improbable that 
this kind of testimony should deceive us, as that we should 
be disappointed in our expectation of the uniformity of 
nature. The kind of sophism now referred to, seems to 
correspond with that which logical writers have named 
the fallacy of division. It consists in applying to facts 
in their separate state, what only belongs to them collec- 
tively. The converse of it is the fallacy of composition. 
It consists in applying to the facts collectively, what be- 
longs only to them, or to some of them, in their separate 
state : — as if one were to show that a certain kind of tes- 
timony is absolutely to be relied on, and thence were to 
contend that testimony in general is worthy of absolute 
confidence. 

X. A frequent fallacy consists in first overturning an 
unsound argument, and thence reasoning against the 
doctrine which this argument was meant to support. This 
is the part of a mere casuist, not of a, sincere inquirer 
after the truth ; for it by no means follows that a doc- 
trine is false, because unsound arguments have been 
adduced in support of it. We have formerly alluded to 
some remarkable examples of this fallacy, especially in 
regard to those important principles, commonly called 
first truths ; which, we have seen, admit of no processes 
of reasoning, and consequently, are in no degree affected 
by arguments exposing the fallacy of such processes. We 
learn from this, on the other hand, the importance of 
avoiding all weak and inconclusive arguments, or doubtful 
statements ; for, independently of the opening which they 
give for sophistical objections, it is obvious that, on other 
grounds, the reasoning is only encumbered by them. 
It is the part of the casuist to rest the weight of his 



184 KEASON. 

objections on such weak points, leaving out of view those 
which he cannot contend with. It may even happen that 
a conclusion is true, though the whole reasoning may- 
have been weak, unsound, and irrelevant. The casuist, 
of course, in such a case, attacks the reasoning and not 
the conclusion. On the other hand, there may be much 
in an argument which is true, or which may be conceded ; 
while the most important part of it is untrue, and the 
conclusion false. An inexperienced reasoner, in such a 
case, thinks it necessary to combat every point, and thus 
exposes himself to sound replies from his adversary, on 
subjects which are of no importance. A skilful reasoner 
concedes or passes over all such positions, and rests his 
attack on those in which the fallacy is really involved. 
An example illustrative of this subject is familiar to those 
who are acquainted with the controversy respecting our 
idea of cause and effect.' Mr. Hume stated in a clear 
manner the doctrine, that this idea is derived entirely 
from our experience of a uniform sequence of two events ; 
and founded upon this an argument against our belief in 
a great First Cause. This led to a controversy respecting 
the original doctrine itself; and it is not many years 
since it was contended by respectable individuals, that it 
is nothing less than the essence of atheism to maintain, 
that our notion of cause and effect originates in the 
observation of a uniform sequence. It is now, perhaps, 
universally admitted that the doctrine is correct, — and 
that the sophism of Mr. Hume consisted in deducing 
from it conclusions which it in no degree warrants. This 
important distinction we formerly alluded to, — namely, 
that our idea of cause and effect, in regard to any two 
individual events, is totally distinct from our intuitive 
impression of causation, or our absolute conviction that 
every event must have an adequate cause. 

XI. A sophism, somewhat connected with the former, 
consists in disproving a doctrine, and on that account 



FALLACIES IN KEASONING. 185 

assuming the opposite doctrine to be true. It may be true ; 
but its truth does not depend upon the falsehood of that 
which is opposed to it ; yet this will be found a principle 
of not unfrequent occurrence in unsound reasonings. 

XII. Fallacies are often introduced, in what may be 
termed an oblique manner, or, as if upon a generally 
admitted authority. The effect of this is to take off the 
appearance of the statement being made directly by the 
author, and resting upon his authority by which we might 
be led to examine its truth. For this purpose it is put, 
perhaps, in the form of a question ; or is introduced by 
such expressions as the following : — " it is a remarkable 
fact," — "it is somewhat singular," — "it has been 
argued with much justice," — "it will be generally 
admitted," &c. # 

XIII. Fallacy may arise from leaving the main sub- 
ject of discussion, and arguing upon points which have 
but a secondary relation to it. This is one of the 
resources of the casuist when he finds himself in the worst 
of his argument. Nearly allied to this is the art of skil- 
fully dropping part of a statement, when the reasoner 
finds he cannot support it, and going on boldly with the 
remainder as if he still maintained the whole. 

XIV. Much of the fallacy and ambiguity of processes 
of reasoning depends entirely, as formerly stated, on the 
use of terms. This may consist in two contending parties 
using the same word in different meanings, without 
defining what their meanings are; — in one or both using 
terms in a sense different from their commonly recognised 
acceptation ; or in using them in one sense in one part 
of the argument, and in another in a different part of it. 
Such disputes, accordingly, are often interminable ; and 
this mode of disputation is one of the great resources of 
the casuist* or of him who argues for victory, not for truth. 



186 REASON. 

The remedy is, that every reasoner shall be required 
clearly to define the terms which he employs ; and that, 
in every controversy, certain premises or preliminaries 
shall be fixed in which the parties are agreed. The 
ambiguity of terms is in fact so extensive a source of fal- 
lacy, that scarcely any sophistical argument will be found 
free from it ; as in almost every language, the same term 
is used with great diversity of meanings. Let us take, 
for example, the term Faith. It means — a mere system 
of opinions, — confidence in testimony, — reliance on the 
integrity, fidelity, and stability of character of other 
beings, — an act of the understanding in regard to abstract 
truth presented to it, — and a mental condition by which 
truths, of another description, which are simply objects 
of belief, exert such an influence over the character as if 
they were objects of sense. In the controversies which 
have arisen out of this word, it will probably be found, 
that these various meanings have not been sufficiently 
distinguished from each other. A celebrated passage in 
the Spirit of Laws, has been justly referred to, as a re- 
markable example of the same kind of sophism. "The 
Deity," says Montesquieu, " has his laws ; the material 
world — its laws ; intelligences superior to man — their 
laws ; the brutes — their laws ; man — his laws." In this 
short passage, the term laws is employed, probably, in 
four senses, remarkably different. 

XV. There are various other sources of fallacy consist- 
ing chiefly in the use of arguments which cannot be 
admitted as relevant in regard to the process of reasoning, 
though they may carry a certain weight in reference to 
the individuals concerned. Among these may be reckoned, 
appeals to high authorities, to popular prejudices, or to 
the passions of the multitude ; and what is called the 
argumentum ad hominem. If a person, for example, be 
arguing in support of a particular rule of conduct, we may 
retort upon him, that his own conduct, in certain instances, 



FALLACIES IN REASONING. 187 

was in direct opposition to it. This may be very true in 
regard to the individual, but can have no influence in the 
decision of the question. 

XVI. One of the most common sources of fallacy con- 
sists of distorted views and partial statements, — such as, 
facts disguised, modified, or collected on one side of a 
question; — or arguments and authorities adduced in sup- 
port of particular opinions, leaving out of view those 
which tend to different conclusions. Misstatement, in 
one form or another, may indeed be considered as a most 
fruitful source of controversy ; and, amid the contests of 
rival disputants, the chief difficulty which meets the 
candid inquirer after truth, is to have the subject pre- 
sented to his mind without distortion. Hence the im- 
portance, in every inquiry, of suspending our judgment, 
— and of patiently devoting ourselves to clear the subject 
from all imperfect views and partial statements. With- 
out the most anxious attention to this rule, a statement 
may appear satisfactoiy, and a deduction legitimate, which 
are in fact leading us widely astray from the truth. 

After every possible care in any process of reasoning, 
we may still find, in many cases, a degree of doubt, and 
even certain varieties of opinion in regard to the import 
and bearing of the argument. This arises partly from 
actual differences in the power of judging, or what we 
call in common language vigour of mind ; and partly 
from differences in attention, or in the habit of applying 
the judgment closely to the elements of an inquiry. 
Hence the varieties of opinion that may be held by dif- 
ferent individuals on the same subject, and with the 
same facts before them ; and the degree of uncertainty 
which attends various processes of reasoning. There is 
one species of reasoning which is free from all this kind 
of uncertainty, namely, the mathematical ; and the supe- 
riority of it depends upon the following circumstances. 



188 REASON. 

1. Nothing is taken for granted or depends upon 
mere authority ; and, consequently, there is no room for 
fallacy or doubt in regard to the premises on which the 
reasoning is founded. No examination of facts is re- 
quired in any degree analogous to that which is neces- 
sary in physical science. The mathematician proceeds 
upon simple relations of quantity and space, which can 
be correctly ascertained, and can be cleared from all 
ambiguity, and from everything not connected with the 
subject. 

2. In the farther progress of a mathematical argu- 
ment, if we have any doubt of a proposition which is 
assumed as the result of a former process, we have only 
to turn to the demonstration of it, and be immediately 
satisfied. Thus, if any step of a process be founded 
upon the principle, that* all the angles of a triangle are 
equal to two right angles, or that the square of the hypo- 
tenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the two sides, 
should we have any doubt of the truth of these conclu- 
sions, the demonstration of them is before us. But, if 
an argument be founded on the principle, that the 
heavenly bodies attract one another with a force, which 
is directly as their quantity of matter, and inversely as 
the square of their distance, this great principle must be 
received on the authority of the eminent men by whom 
it was ascertained, the mass of mankind having neither 
the power nor the means of verifying it. 

3. All the terms are fully and distinctly defined, and 
there is no room for obscurity or ambiguity in regard to 
them. 

4. The various steps in a process of mathematical 
reasoning follow each other so closely and consecutively, 
as to carry a constant conviction of absolute certainty ; 
and, provided we are in possession of the necessary 
premises, each single step is short, and the result obvious. 

5. The proper objects of mathematical reasoning are 
quantity and its relations ; and these are capable of being 



MATHEMATICAL KEASONING. 189 

defined and measured with a precision, of which the 
objects of other kinds of reasoning are entirely unsuscep- 
tible. It is, indeed, always to be kept in mind, that 
mathematical reasoning is only applicable to subjects 
which can be defined and measured in this manner, and 
that all attempts to extend it to subjects of other kinds 
have led to the greatest absurdities. 

Notwithstanding the high degree of precision which 
thus distinguishes mathematical reasoning, the study of 
mathematics does not, as is commonly supposed, neces- 
sarily lead to precision in other species of reasoning, and 
still less to correct investigation in physical or mental 
science. The explanation that is given of this fact seems 
to be satisfactory. The mathematician argues certain 
conclusions from certain relations of quantity and space, 
which are ascertained with absolute precision ; and these 
premises are so clearly defined, and so free from all 
extraneous matter, that their truth is obvious, or is ascer- 
tained without difficulty. By being conversant with 
truths of this nature, he does not learn that kind of 
caution and severe examination, which are required in 
other sciences, — for enabling us to judge whether the 
statements on which we proceed are true, and whether 
they include the whole truth which ought to enter into 
the investigation. He thus acquires a habit of too great 
facility in the admission of data or premises, which is the 
part of every investigation which the physical or mental 
inquirer scrutinizes with the most anxious care, — and too 
great confidence in the mere force of reasoning, without 
adequate attention to the previous processes of investiga- 
tion on which all reasoning must be founded. It has been, 
accordingly, remarked by Mr. Stewart, and other accurate 
observers of intellectual character, that mathematicians 
are apt to be exceedingly credulous, in regard both to 
opinions and to matters of testimony; while, on the 
other hand, persons, who are chiefly conversant with 
the uncertain sciences, acquire a kind of scepticism in 



190 REASON. 

regard to statements, which is apt to lead them into 
the opposite error. These observations, of course, apply 
only to what we may call a mere mathematician, — a 
character which is now, probably, rare, since the close 
connexion was established between the mathematical and 
physical sciences in the philosophy of Newton. 

In the various steps constituting a process of reasoning, 
or a process of investigation, in any department of know- 
ledge, our guide is reason or judgment. Its peculiar 
province is to give to each fact, or each principle, a proper 
place and due influence in the inquiry, and to trace the 
real and true tendency of it in the conclusion. It is, of 
course, assisted by other mental operations, as memory, 
conception, and abstraction, but especially by attention, 
— or a deliberate and careful application of the mind to 
each fact and each consideration which ought to have a 
place in the inquiry. This is entirely a voluntary exercise 
of the mind, strengthened and made easy by habit or 
frequent exercise, and weakened or impaired by disuse or 
misapplication ; and there is, perhaps, nothing which has 
a greater influence in the formation of character, or in 
determining the place which a man is to assume among 
his fellow-men. 

This sound exercise of judgment is widely distinct from 
the art of ingenious disputation. The object of the for- 
mer is to weigh, fully and candidly, all the relations of 
things, and to give to each fact its proper weight in the 
inquiry ; the aim of the latter is to seize, with rapidity, 
particular relations, and to find facts bearing upon a par- 
ticular view of a subject. This habit, when much exercised, 
tends rather to withdraw the attention from the cultiva- 
tion of the former. Thus, it has not unfrequently hap- 
pened, that an ingenious pleader has made a bad judge ; 
and that acute and powerful disputants have perplexed 
themselves by their own subtleties, till they have ended 
by doubting of everything. The same observation applies 



SEASONING 191 

to controversial writing ; and hence the hesitation with 
which we receive the arguments and statements of a keen 
controvertist, and the necessity for hearing both sides. 
In making use of this caution, we may not accuse the 
reasoner of any unsound arguments or false statements. 
We only charge him with acting the part of an ingenious 
pleader, who brings forward the statements and arguments 
calculated to favour one side of a question, and leaves 
those of the opposite side out of view. The candid in- 
quirer, like the just judge, considers both sides, and 
endeavours, according to the best of his judgment, to 
decide between them. To the same principle, we trace 
the suspicion with which we receive the statements of 
an author, who first brings forward his doctrine, and then 
proceeds to collect facts in support of it. To a similar 
process we may ascribe the paradoxical opinions, into 
which sophistical writers have brought themselves* often 
on subjects of the highest importance ; and which they 
have continued to advocate, with much appearance of an 
honest conviction of their truth. It would be unjust to 
suppose that these writers have always intended to impose 
upon others ; they have very often imposed upon them- 
selves ; but they have done so by their own voluntary 
act, in a misapplication of their reasoning powers. They 
have directed their attention, exclusively or chiefly, to one 
view of a subject, and have neglected to direct it, with 
the same care, to the facts and considerations which tend 
to support the opposite conclusions. 

In regard to the sound exercise of judgment, it is 
farther to be remarked, that it may exist without the 
habit of observing the various steps in the mental process 
which is connected with it. Thus we find men of that 
character, to which we give the name of strong sound 
sense, who form just and comprehensive conclusions on a 
subject, without being able to explain to others the chain 
of thought by which they arrived at them; and who, 
when they attempt to do to, are apt to bewilder them 



192 REASON. 

selves, and fall into absurdities. Such persons, accord- 
ingly, are adapted for situations requiring both soundness 
of judgment and promptitude in action ; but they make 
a bad figure in public speaking or reasoning. They are, 
indeed, possessed of a faculty more valuable than any 
thing that metaphysics or logic can furnish ; but a due 
attention to these sciences might increase their useful- 
ness, by enabling them to communicate to others the 
mental process which led to their decisions. A person 
of this description, according to a well-known anecdote, 
when appointed to a judicial situation in one of the colo- 
nies, received from an eminent judge the advice, to trust 
to his own good sense in forming his opinions, but never 
to attempt to state the grounds of them. " The judg- 
ment," said he, "will probably be right, the argument 
will infallibly be wrong." When this strong sound 
judgment, and correct logical habits, are united in the 
same individual, they form the character of one who 
arrives at true conclusions on any subject to which his 
attention is directed, and at the same time carries others 
along with him to a full conviction of their truth. 

We have, then, every reason to believe, that though 
there may be original differences in the power of judg- 
ment, the chief source of the actual varieties in this 
important function is rather to be found in its culture 
and regulation. On this subject there are various con- 
siderations of the highest interest, claiming the attention 
of those who wish to have the understanding trained to 
the investigation of truth. These are chiefly referable 
to two heads; — the manner in which the judgment 
suffers from deficient culture ; and the manner in which 
it is distorted by want of due regulation. 

I. The judgment is impaired by deficient culture. This 
is exemplified in that listless and indifferent habit of the 
mind, in which there is no exercise of correct thinking, 



ITS CULTURE AND REGULATION. 193 

or of a close and continued application of the attention to 
subjects of real importance. The mind is engrossed by- 
frivolities and trifles, or bewildered by the wild play of 
the imagination ; and, in regard to opinions on the most 
important subjects, it either feels a total indifference, or 
receives them from others without the exertion of think- 
ing or examining for itself. The individuals who are 
thus affected, either become the dupes of sophistical 
opinions imposed upon them by other men, or spend their 
lives in frivolous and unworthy pursuits, with a total in- 
capacity for all important inquiries. A slight degree 
removed from this condition of mind is another, in which 
opinions are formed on slight and partial examination, 
perhaps from viewing one side of a question, or, at least, 
without a full and candid direction of the attention to all 
the facts which ought to be taken into the inquiry. Both 
these conditions of mind may perhaps originate partly 
in constitutional peculiarities or erroneous education ; but 
they are fixed and increased by habit and indulgence, 
until, after a certain time, they probably become irreme- 
diable. They can be corrected only by a diligent cultiva- 
tion of the important habit, which, in common language, 
we call sound and correct thinking ; and which is of equal 
value, whether it be applied to the formation of opinions, 
or to the regulation of conduct. 

II. The judgment is vitiated by want of due regulation ; 
and this may be ascribed chiefly to two sources, — prejudice 
and passion. Prejudice consists in the formation of 
opinions before the subject has been really examined. 
By means of this, the attention is misdirected, and the 
judgment biassed, in a manner of which the individual is 
often in a great measure unconscious. The highest 
degree of it is exemplified in that condition of the mind 
in which a man first forms an opinion, which interest or 
inclination may have suggested : then proceeds to collect 
arguments in support of it ; and concludes by reasoning 




194 REASON. 

himself into the helief of what he wishes to be true. It 
is thus that the judgment is apt to be misled, in a greater 
or less degree, by party spirit, and personal attachments 
or antipathies ; and it is clear that all such influence is 
directly opposed to its sound and healthy exercise. The 
same observations apply to passion, or the influence 
exerted by the moral feelings. The most striking example 
of this is presented by that depraved condition of the 
mind, which distorts the judgment in regard to the great 
principles of moral rectitude. " A mans understanding," 
says Mr. Locke, " seldom fails him in this part, unless 
his will would have it so ; if he takes a wrong course, it 
is most commonly because he goes wilfully out of the 
way, or at least chooses to be bewildered ; and there are 
few, if any, who dreadfully mistake, that are willing to 
be right." 

These facts are worthy of much consideration, and they 
appear to be equally interesting to all classes of men, 
whatever may be the degree of their mental cultivation, 
and whatever the subjects are to which their attention is 
more particularly directed. There is one class of truths 
to which they apply with peculiar force, — namely, those 
which relate to the moral government of God, and the 
condition of man as a responsible being. These great 
truths, and the evidence on which they are founded, are 
addressed to our judgment as rational beings ; they are 
pressed upon our attention as creatures destined for 
another state of existence ; and the sacred duty from 
which no individual can be absolved, is a voluntary exer- 
cise of his thinking and reasoning powers, — it is solemnly, 
seriously, and deliberately to consider. On these sub- 
jects a man may frame any system for himself, and may 
rest in that system as truth ; but the solemn inquiry is, 
not what opinions he has formed, but in what manner he 
lias formed them. Has he approached the great inquiry 
with a sincere desire to discover the truth ; and has he 
brought to it a mind, neither misled by prejudice, nor 



ITS CULTURE AND REGULATION. 195 

distorted by the condition of its moral feelings ; — has he 
directed his attention to all the facts and evidences, with 
an intensity suited to their momentous importance ; and 
has he conducted the whole investigation with a deep and 
serious feeling, that it carries with it an interest which 
reaches into eternity. Truth is immutable and eternal, 
but it may elude the frivolous or prejudiced inquirer ; 
and, even when he thinks his conclusions are the result 
of much examination, he may be resting his highest 
concerns in delusion and falsehood. 

The human mind, indeed, even in its highest state of 
culture, has been found inadequate to the attainment of 
the true knowledge of the Deity ; but a light from hea- 
ven has shone upon the scene of doubt and of darkness, 
which will conduct the humble inquirer through every 
difficulty, until he arrive at the full perception and com- 
manding influence of the truth; — of truth such as human 
intellect never could have reached, and which to every 
one who receives it, brings its own evidence that it comes 
from God. 

Finally, the sound exercise of judgment has a remark- 
able influence in producing and maintaining that tran- 
quillity of mind which results from a due application of 
its powers, and a correct estimate of the relations of 
things. The want of this exercise leads a man to be 
unduly engrossed with the frivolities of life, unreasonably 
elated by its joys, and unreasonably depressed by its sor- 
rows. A sound and well-regulated judgment tends to 
preserve from all such disproportioned pursuits and 
emotions. It does so, by leading us to view all present 
things in their true relations, to estimate aright their 
relative value, and to fix the degree of attention of which 
they are worthy ; — it does so in a more especial manner, 
by leading us to compare the present life, which is so 
rapidly passing over us, with the paramount importance 
and overwhelming interest of the life which is to come, 
o 2 



196 REASON. 

§ 2. — Of the Use of Reason in correcting the Impressions 
of the Mind in regard to External Things. 

This subject leads to an investigation of great and ex- 
tensive interest, of which I cannot hope to give more 
than a slight and imperfect outline. My anxiety is, that 
what is attempted may be confined to authentic facts, 
and the most cautious conclusions ; and that it may be 
of some use in leading to farther inquiry. 

We have seen the power which the mind possesses, of 
recalling the vivid impression of scenes, or events long 
gone by, in that mental process which we call conception. 
We have seen also its power of taking the elements of 
actual scenes, and forming them into new combinations, 
so as to represent to itself scenes and events which have 
no real existence. We have likewise observed the re- 
markable manner in which persons, events, or scenes 
long past, perhaps forgotten, are recalled into the mind 
by means of association : — trains of thought taking pos- 
session of the mind, in a manner which we often cannot 
account for, and bringing back facts or occurrences, 
which had long ceased to be objects of attention. These 
remarkable processes are most apt to take place, when 
the mind is in that passive state which we call a reverie ; 
and they are more rarely observed, when the attention is 
actively exerted upon any distinct and continued subject 
of thought. 

During the presence in the mind of such a represen- 
tation, whether recalled by conception or association, or 
fabricated by imagination, there is probably, for the time, 
a kind of belief of its real and present existence. But 
on the least return of the attention to the affairs of life, 
the vision is instantly dissipated ; and this is done by 
reason comparing the vision with the actual state of things 
in the external world. The poet or the novelist, it is 
probable, feels himself, for the time, actually embodied 



EEASON. 197 

in the person of his hero, and, in that character, judges, 
talks, and acts in the scene which he is depicting. This 
we call imagination ; but, were the vision not to be dis- 
sipated on his return to the ordinary relations of life, — 
were he then to act in a single instance in the character 
of the being of his imagination, — this would constitute 
insanity. 

The condition of mind here referred to does actually 
take place ; namely, a state in which the visions or im- 
pressions of the mind itself are believed to have a real 
and present existence in the external world, and in which 
reason fails to correct this belief by the actual relations 
of external things. There are two conditions in which 
this occurs in a striking manner, — Insanity and Dream- 
ing. Considered as mental phenomena, they have a 
remarkable affinity to each other. The great difference 
between them is, that in insanity, the erroneous impres- 
sion being permanent, affects the conduct; whereas 
in dreaming, no influence on the conduct is produced, 
because the vision is dissipated upon awaking. The 
difference, again, between the mind under the influence 
of imagination, and in the state now under consideration, 
is, that in the former the vision is built up by a voluntary 
effort, and is varied or dismissed at pleasure ; while in 
dreaming and insanity this power is suspended, and the 
mind is left entirely under the influence of the chain of 
thoughts which happens to be present, without being able 
either to vary or dismiss it. The particular chain or 
series seems, in general, perhaps always, to depend upon 
associations previously formed ; the various elements of 
which bring up one another in a variety of singular com- 
binations, and in a manner which we often cannot trace, 
or in any degree account for. The facts connected with 
this branch of the subject form one of the most inte- 
resting parts of this investigation. 

There are some other affections, which come under 
the same class ; but insanity and dreaming are the two 



198 REASON. 

extreme examples. In dreaming, the bodily senses are in 
a great measure shut up from external impressions ; and 
the influence of the will upon bodily motions is also sus- 
pended, so that no actions in general follow. We shall 
afterwards see that there are exceptions to this, — but it 
is the common state in dreaming. In insanity, on the 
other hand, the bodily senses are awake to impressions 
from without, and bodily motion is under the influence 
of the will ; hence the maniac acts, under his erroneous 
impressions, in a manner which often makes him danger- 
ous to the community. There is an affection which holds 
an intermediate place between these two extremes, and 
presents a variety of interesting phenomena. This is 
Somnambulism. It differs from dreaming, in the senses 
being, to a certain degree, awake to external things ; 
though that power is suspended, by which the mental 
impressions are corrected by the influence of the external 
world. Thus the somnambulist often understands what 
is said to him, and can converse with another person in 
a tolerably connected manner, though always with some 
reference to his erroneous mental impressions. He acts, 
also, under the influence of these ; but the remarkable 
difference between him and the maniac is, that the som- 
nambulist can be roused from his vision, and then the 
whole is dissipated. There are cases, indeed, in which 
the hallucination is more permanent, and cannot be at 
once interrupted in this manner : — these of course come 
to border on insanity. 

There is still a fourth condition connected with this 
curious subject ; namely, that in which a person awake, 
and in other respects in possession of his rational 
powers, perceives spectral illusions. This, we shall see, 
is allied in a singular manner to the affections now 
referred to. 

The subject, therefore, divides itself into four parts, 
which will form the separate topics of the following 
observations : — 



DEEAMING. 199 

1. Dreaming. 

2. Somnambulism. 

3. Insanity. 

4. Spectral Illusions. 

The causes of these remarkable conditions of the mental 
functions are entirely beyond the reach of our inquiries ; 
but the phenomena connected with them present a sub- 
ject of most interesting investigation. 



I. DEEAMTNG. 

The peculiar condition of the mind in dreaming 
appears to be referable to two heads. 

1. The impressions which arise in the mind are 
believed to have a real and present existence ; and this 
belief is not corrected, as in the waking state, by com- 
paring the conception with the things of the external 
world. 

•2. The ideas or images in the mind follow one another 
according to associations over which we have no control ; 
we cannot, as in the waking state, vary the series, or stop 
it at our will. 

One of the most curious objects of investigation is to 
trace the manner in which the particular visions or series 
of images arise. When considered in this view, a great 
variety may be observed in dreams. Some of those which 
we are able to trace most distinctly appear to be the 
following. 

I. Recent events, and recent mental emotions, mingled 
up into one continuous series, with each other, or with 
old events, — by means of some feeling which had been 
in a greater or less degree allied to each of them, though 
in other respects they were entirely unconnected. We 
hear, perhaps, of a distressing accident; we have received 
some unpleasant news of an absent friend ; and we have 
been concerned in some business which gave rise to 



200 EEASON. 

anxiety: a dream takes place, in which all these are 
combined together ; we are ourselves connected with the 
accident ; the absent friend is in our company ; and the 
person with whom the business was transacted also 
appears in the scene. The only bond of union among 
those occurrences was, that each of them gave rise to a 
similar kind of emotion ; and the train was probably 
excited by some bodily feeling of uneasiness, perhaps an 
oppression at the stomach, at the time when the dream 
occurred. Without this, the particular series might not 
have taken place at all ; or some of the elements of it 
might have occurred in a totally different association. 
The absent friend might have appeared in connection 
with old and pleasing recollections, combined perhaps 
with persons and events associated with these, and with- 
out any reference to the painful intelligence by which the 
attention had been directed to him. — We meet a person 
whom we have not seen for many years, and are led to 
inquire after old friends, and to allude to events long 
past. Dreams follow, in which these persons appear, 
and other persons and occurrences connected with them ; 
but the individual, whose conversation gave rise to the 
series, does not appear in it, because he was not connected 
with the particular chain of events which were thus 
recalled into mind. 

A woman, who was a patient in the Clinical Ward of the 
Infirmary of Edinburgh, under the care of my friend the 
late Dr. Duncan, talked a great deal in her sleep, and 
made numerous and very distinct allusions to the cases 
of other sick persons. These allusions did not apply to 
any patients who were in the ward at that time ; but, after 
some observation, they were found to refer correctly to 
the cases of individuals, who were there, when this 
woman was a patient in the ward, two years before. — 
The case of a gentleman was lately communicated to 
me, who, 45 years ago, was placed in circumstances of 
great alarm and danger, from being pursued by an infu- 



©BEAMING. 201 

riated bull. Ever since that time, if he eats much at 
supper, or anything of an indigestible kind, he is annoyed 
with dreams ; and the subject of them almost invariably 
turns upon the situation in which he then was placed 
from the pursuit of the bull. 

II. Trains of images brought up by association with 
bodily sensations. Examples of this kind are of frequent 
occurrence. By the kind attention of my lamented 
friend, the late Dr. James Gregory, I received a most 
interesting manuscript by his late eminent father, which 
contains a variety of curious matter on this subject. In 
this paper, Dr. Gregory mentions of himself, that, having 
on one occasion gone to bed with a vessel of hot water at 
his feet, he dreamt of walking up the crater of Mount 
Etna, and of feeling the ground warm under him. He 
had, at an early period of his life, visited Mount Vesu- 
vius, and actually felt a strong* sensation of warmth in 
his feet, when walking up the side of the crater ; but it 
was remarkable that the dream was' not of Vesuvius, but 
of Etna, of which he had only read Brydone's description. 
This was probably from the latter impression having been 
the more recent. On another occasion, he dreamt of 
spending a winter at Hudson's Bay, and of suffering 
much distress from the intense frost. He found that he 
had thrown off the bed-clothes in his sleep ; and, a few 
days before, he had been reading a very particular account 
of the state of the colonies in that country during winter. 
Again, when suffering from toothache, he dreamt of 
undergoing the operation of tooth drawing, with the 
additional circumstance, that the operator drew a sound 
tooth, leaving the aching one in its place. But the most 
striking anecdote in this interesting document, is one in 
which similar dreams were produced in a gentleman and 
his wife, at the same time, and by the same cause. It 
happened at the period when there was an alarm of 
French invasion, and almost every man in Edinburgh 



202 EEASON. 

■was a soldier. All things had been arranged in expecta- 
tion of the landing of an enemy ; the first notice of which 
was to be given by a gun from the Castle, and this was 
to be followed by a chain of signals calculated to alarm 
the country in all directions. Farther, there had been 
recently in Edinburgh a splendid military spectacle, in 
which five thousand men had been drawn up in Prince's 
Street, fronting the Castle. — The gentleman to whom the 
dream occurred, and who had been a most zealous 
volunteer, was in bed between two and three o'clock in 
the morning, when he dreamt of hearing the signal-gun. 
He was immediately at the Castle, witnessed the proceed- 
ings for displaying the signals, and saw and heard a great 
bustle over the town, from troops and artillery assembling, 
especially in Prince's Street. At this time he was roused 
by his wife, w 7 ho awoke in a fright in consequence of a 
similar dream, connected with much noise and the 
landing of an enemy, and concluding with the death of a 
particular friend of her husband's, who had served with 
him as a volunteer during the late war. The origin of 
this remarkable concurrence was ascertained, in the 
morning, to be the noise produced in the room above, by 
the fall of a pair of tongs, which had been left in some 
very awkward position, in support of a clothes-screen. — 
Dr. Reid relates of himself, that the dressing, applied 
after a blister on his head, having become ruffled so as to 
produce considerable uneasiness, he dreamt of falling into 
the hands of savages and being scalped by them. 

To this part of the subject are to be referred some re- 
markable cases, in which, in particular individuals, dreams 
can be produced by whispering into their ears when they 
are asleep. One of the most curious, as well as authentic 
examples of this kind, has been referred to by several 
writers : I find the particulars in the paper of Dr. 
Gregory, and they were related to him by a gentleman 
who witnessed them. The subject of it was an officer in 
the expedition to Louisburgh in 1758, who had this 



DREAMING. 203 

peculiarity in so remarkable a degree that his companions 
in the transport were in the constant habit of amusing 
themselves at his expense. They could produce in him 
any kind of dream, by whispering into his ear, especially 
if this was done by a friend with whose voice he was 
familiar. At one time, they conducted him through the 
whole progress of a quarrel, which ended in a duel ; and 
when the parties were supposed to be met, a pistol was 
put into his hand, which he fired, and was awakened by 
the report. On another occasion, they found him asleep 
on the top of a locker or bunker in the cabin, when they 
made him believe he had fallen overboard, and exhorted 
him to save himself by swimming. He immediately 
imitated all the motions of swimming. Then they told 
him that a shark was pursuing him, and entreated him 
to dive for his life. He instantly did so, with such force 
as to throw himself entirely from the locker upon the 
cabin-floor, by which he was much bruised, and awakened 
of course. After the landing of the army at Louisburgh, 
his friends found him one day asleep in his tent, and 
evidently much annoyed by the cannonading. They then 
made him believe that he was engaged, when he ex- 
pressed great fear, and showed an evident disposition to 
run away. Against this they remonstrated, but, at the 
same time, increased his fears, by imitating the groans 
of the wounded and the dying; and, when he asked, as 
he often did, who was down, they named his particular 
friends. At last they told him that the man next him- 
self in the line had fallen, when he instantly sprung 
from his bed, rushed out of the tent, and was roused 
from his danger and his dream together by falling over 
the tent- ropes. A remarkable circumstance in this case, 
was, that, after these experiments, he had no distinct 
recollection of his dreams, but only a confused feeling 
of oppression or fatigue, and used to tell his friends that 
he was sure they had been playing some trick upon him. 
A case entirely similar is related in Smellie's Natural 



204 BEASON. 

History, the subject of which was a medical student at 
the university of Edinburgh. 

A singular fact has often been observed in dreams 
which are excited by a noise; namely, that the same 
sound awakes the person, and produces a dream which 
appears to him to occupy a considerable time. The fol- 
lowing example of this has been related to me. A gen- 
tleman dreamt that he had enlisted as a soldier, joined 
his regiment, deserted, was apprehended, carried back, 
tried, condemned to be shot, and at last, led out for 
execution. After all the usual preparations, a gun was 
fired ; he awoke with the report, and found that a noise 
in an adjoining room had both produced the dream and 
awakened him. The same want of the notion of time is 
observed in dreams from other causes. Dr. Gregory 
mentions a gentleman, who, after sleeping in a damp 
place, was for a long time liable to a feeling of suffocation 
whenever he slept in a lying posture ; and this was 
always accompanied by a dream of a skeleton which 
grasped him violently by the throat. He could sleep in 
a sitting posture without any uneasy feeling ; and, after 
trying various expedients, he at last had a sentinel placed 
beside him, with orders to awake him whenever he sunk 
down. On one occasion he was attacked by the skeleton, 
and a severe and long struggle ensued before he awoke. 
On finding fault with his attendant for allowing him to 
lie so long in such a state of suffering, he was assured 
that he had not lain an instant, but had been awakened 
the moment he began to sink. The gentleman, after a 
considerable time, recovered from the affection. A friend 
of mine dreamt that he crossed the Atlantic, and spent a 
fortnight in America. In embarking on his return, he 
fell into the sea; and, having awaked with the fright, 
discovered that he had not been asleep above ten minutes. 

III. Dreams consisting of the revival of old associa- 
tions, respecting things which had entirely passed out of 



DKEAMING. 205 

the mind, and which seemed to have been forgotten. It 
is often impossible to trace the manner in which these 
dreams arise ; and some of the facts connected with them 
scarcely appear referable to any principle with which we 
are at present acquainted. The following example 
occurred to a particular friend of mine, and may be relied 
upon in its most minute particulars. 

The gentleman was at the time connected with one of 
the principal banks in Glasgow, and was at his place at 
the teller's table, where money is paid, when a person 
entered demanding payment of a sum of six pounds. 
There were several people waiting, who were, in turn, 
entitled to be attended to before him, but he was ex- 
tremely impatient, and rather noisy ; and, being besides 
a remarkable stammerer, he became so annoying, that 
another gentleman requested my friend to pay him his 
money and get rid of him. He did so, accordingly, but 
with an expression of impatience at being obliged to 
attend to him before his turn, and thought no more of 
the transaction. At the end of the year, which was 
eight or nine months after, the books of the bank could 
not be made to balance, the deficiency being exactly six 
pounds. Several days and nights had been spent in 
endeavouring to discover the error, but without success ; 
when at last my friend returned home, much fatigued, 
and went to bed. He dreamt of being at his place in 
the bank, — and the whole transaction with the stammerer, 
as now detailed, passed before him in all its particulars. 
He awoke under a full impression that the dream was to 
lead him to the discovery of what he was so anxiously in 
search of ; and, on examination, soon discovered that the 
sum paid to this person in the manner now mentioned, 
had been neglected to be inserted in the book of interests, 
and that it exactly accounted for the error in the balance. 

This case, upon a little consideration, will appear to be 
exceedingly remarkable, because the impression called 
up in this singular manner, was one of which there was 



206 EEASON. 

no consciousness at the time when it occurred ; and, 
consequently, we cannot suppose that any association 
took place which could have assisted in recalling it. For 
the fact, upon which the importance of the case rested, 
was, not his having paid the money, but having neglected 
to insert the payment. Now of this there was no im- 
pression made upon the mind at the time, and we can 
scarcely conceive on what principle it could be recalled. 
The deficiency being six pounds, we may, indeed, suppose 
the gentleman endeavouring to recollect, whether there 
could have been a payment of this sum made in any 
irregular manner, which could have led to an omission, 
or an error; but in the transactions of an extensive 
bank, in a great commercial city, a payment of six 
pounds, at the distance of eight or nine months, could 
have made but a very faint impression ; and upon the 
w r hole, the case presents, perhaps, one of the most remark- 
able mental phenomena connected with this curious subj ect. 
The following is of the same nature, though much less 
extraordinary, from the shortness of the interval ; and it 
may perhaps be considered as a simple act of memory, 
though, for the same reason as in the former case, we 
cannot trace any association which could have recalled 
the circumstance. A gentleman who was appointed to 
an office in one of the principal banks in Edinburgh, 
found, on balancing his first day's transactions, that the 
money under his charge was deficient by ten pounds. 
After many fruitless attempts to discover the cause of 
the error he went home, not a little annoyed by the 
result of his first experiment in banking. In the night, 
he dreamt that he was at his place in the bank, and that 
a gentleman, who was personally known to him, presented 
a draught for ten pounds. On awaking, he recollected 
the dream, and also recollected that the gentleman who 
appeared in it had actually received ten pounds. On going 
to the bank, he found that he had neglected to enter the 
payment, and that the gentleman's order had by accident 



DEEAMING. SOT 

fallen among some pieces of paper, which had been 
thrown on the floor to be swept away. 

I have formerly referred to some remarkable cases in 
which languages long forgotten were recovered during a 
state of delirium. Something very analogous seems to 
occur in dreaming, of which I have received the following 
example from an able and intelligent friend. In his youth 
he was very fond of the Greek language, and made con- 
siderable progress in it; but, being afterwards actively 
engaged in other pursuits, he so entirely forgot it that 
he cannot now even read the words. But he has often 
dreamt of reading Greek works which he had been accus- 
tomed to use at college, and with a most vivid impression 
of fully understanding them. 

A farther and most interesting illustration of the class 
of dreams referred to under this head, is found in an 
anecdote published by the distinguished author of the 
Waverley Novels, and considered by him as authentic : — 
" Mr. R, of Bowland, a gentleman of landed property in 
the vale of Gala, was prosecuted for a very considerable 
sum, the accumulated arrears of teind (or tithe) for which 
he was said to be indebted to a noble family, the titulars 
(lay impropriators of the tithes). Mr. R. was strongly 
impressed with the belief that his father had, by a form 
of process peculiar to the law of Scotland, purchased 
these teinds from the titular', and, therefore, that the pre- 
sent prosecution was groundless. But, after an indus- 
trious search amoug his father's papers, an investigation 
of the public records, and a careful inquiry among all 
persons who had transacted law business for his father, 
no evidence could be recovered to support his defence. 
The period was now near at hand when he conceived the 
loss of his law suit to be inevitable, and he had formed 
his determination to ride to Edinburgh next day, and 
make the best bargain he could in the way of compromise. 
He went to bed with this resolution, and, with all the 
circumstances of the case floating upon his mind, had a 



208 REASON. 

dream to the following purpose. His father, who had 
been many years dead, appeared to him, he thought, and 
asked him why he was disturbed in his mind In dreams 
men are not surprised at such apparitions. Mr. R. 
thought that he informed his father of the cause of his 
distress, adding, that the payment of a considerable sum 
of money was the more unpleasant to him, because he 
had a strong consciousness that it was not due, though 
he was unable to recover any evidence in support of his 
belief. ' You are right, my son,' replied the paternal 
shade ; ' I did acquire right to these teinds, for payment 
of which you are now prosecuted. The papers relating to 

the transaction are in the hands of Mr. , a writer 

(or attorney), who is now retired from professional busi- 
ness, and resides at Inveresk, near Edinburgh. He was 
a person whom I employed on that occasion for a parti- 
cular reason, but who never, on any other occasion, 
transacted business on my account. It is very possible,' 

pursued the vision, ' that Mr. may have forgotten 

a matter, which is now of a very old date ; but you may 
call it to his recollection by this token, that, when I came 
to pay his account, there was difficulty in getting change 
for a Portugal piece of gold, and that we were forced to 
drink out the balance at a tavern.' 

" Mr. R. awaked in the morning, with all the words 
of the vision imprinted on his mind, and thought it 
worth while to ride across the country to Inveresk, instead 
of going straight to Edinburgh. When he came there 
he waited on the gentleman mentioned in the dream, a 
very old man; without saying anything of the vision, 
he inquired whether he remembered having conducted 
such a matter for his deceased father. The old gentle- 
man could not at first bring the circumstance to his 
recollection, but, on mention of the Portugal piece of 
gold, the whole returned upon his memory ; he made an 
immediate search for the papers, and recovered them, — 
so that Mr. R. carried to Edinburgh the documents 



DEEAMING. 209 

necessary to gain the cause which he was on the verge 
of losing." * 

There is every reason to believe that this very inte- 
resting case is referable to the principle lately mentioned, 
— that the gentleman had heard the circumstances from 
his father, but had entirely forgotten them, until the 
frequent and intense application of his mind to the sub- 
ject with which they were connected, at length gave rise 
to a train of association which recalled them in the 
dream. To the same principle are referable the two 
following anecdotes, which I have received as entirely 
authentic, — the first of them from the individual to whom 
it occurred. A gentleman of the law in Edinburgh had 
mislaid an important paper connected with the convey- 
ance of a property which was to be settled on a particular 
day. Most anxious search had been made for it, for 
many days, but the evening of the day previous to that 
on which the parties were to meet for the final settlement 
had arrived, without the paper being discovered. The 
son of the gentleman then went to bed under much 
anxiety and disappointment, and dreamt, that at the time 
when the missing paper was delivered to his father, his 
table was covered with papers connected with the affairs 
of a particular client. He awoke under the impression, 
went immediately to a box appropriated to the papers of 
that client, and there found the paper they had been in 
search of, which had been tied up by mistake in a parcel 
to which it was in no way related. Another individual 
connected with a public office, had mislaid a paper of 
such importance, that he was threatened with the loss of 
his situation if he did not produce it. After a long but 
unsuccessful search, under intense anxiety, he also dreamt 
of discovering the paper in a particular place, and found 
it there accordingly. 

I have received several other remarkable examples of 

* Notes to the new edition of the Waverley Novels, vol. v. 
P 



210 EEASON. 

dreams leading to the recollection of circumstances which 
had been entirely forgotten ; and they appear to me to 
be facts of great interest in the philosophy of the mind. 
A gentleman, engaged in extensive business, received a 
hundred pounds inclosed in a letter which he put aside 
along with various other letters, without taking out the 
money. He soon discovered that he was deficient in a 
hundred pounds, but, after the most careful investigation, 
could not discover the source of his error, until, several 
months after, he dreamt of the letter inclosing the money 
so distinctly as led him at once to the discovery of it. — 
A young lady, who is a zealous botanist, picked up, 
during a walk, a plant which she thought she was 
acquainted with, but she could not recollect its name, 
and she had no opportunity of ascertaining it during the 
remainder of that day. In the night she dreamt of being 
at a party, and being introduced to a lady whose name 
was Mrs. Hypnum ; — the plant was a Hypnum. 

There is therefore little reason to doubt, that facts or 
events may be brought up by association in dreams, 
which had entirely passed out of the mind, and had long 
ceased to be objects either of attention or memory. But 
there is reason, farther, to believe, that events may be 
brought up in this manner, which had been so communi- 
cated to the mind as never to have become objects of 
memory. The case lately referred to, respecting the 
banker in Glasgow, may perhaps be considered as of this 
nature ; and there are other authentic facts which can 
only be explained on this principle. During a late inves- 
tigation in the north of Scotland, respecting an atrocious 
murder committed on a pedlar, a man came forward 
voluntarily, and declared that he had had a dream, in 
which there was represented to him a house, and a voice 
directed him to a spot near the house, in which there 
was buried the pack, or box for small articles of merchan- 
dise, of the murdered person On search being made, 
the pack was found, not precisely at the spot which he 



DREAMING. 211 

had mentioned, but very near it. The first impression 
on the minds of the public authorities was, that he was 
either the murderer, or an accomplice in the crime. But 
the individual accused was soon after clearly convicted ; 
— before his execution he fully confessed his crime, and, 
in the strongest manner, exculpated the dreamer from 
any participation in, or knowledge of, the murder. The 
only fact that could be discovered, calculated to throw 
any light upon the occurrence was, that, immediately 
after the murder, the dreamer and the murderer had 
been together, in a state of almost constant intoxication, 
for several days ; and it is supposed that the latter might 
have allowed statements to escape from him, which had 
been recalled to the other in his dream, though he had 
no remembrance of them in his sober hours. 

IV. A class of dreams, which presents an interesting 
subject of observation, includes those in which a strong 
propensity of character, or a strong mental emotion, is 
embodied into a dream, and, by some natural coincidence, 
is fulfilled. A murderer mentioned by Mr. Combe had 
dreamt of committing murder some years before the 
event happened ; — and I have received from a dis- 
tinguished officer to whom it occurred, the following 
history, in which a dream of a very improbable kind was 
fulfilled ten years after it took place, and when the dream 
was entirely forgotten. At the age of between fourteen 
and fifteen, being then living in England, he dreamt 
that he had ascended the crater of Mount Etna ; that 
not contented with what he saw on the outside, he deter- 
mined to descend into the interior, and proceeded accord- 
ingly. About the top there seemed to be a good deal of 
flame and smoke, but a short way down all was quiet, 
and he managed to descend by means of steps like the 
holes in a pigeon-house. His footing, however, soon 
gave way, and he awoke in all the horrors of having nar- 
rowly escaped the fate of the philosopher Empedocles. 
p 2 



212 KEASON. 

In the year 1811, being then a captain in the British 
army, and stationed at Messina, he made one of a party 
of British officers, who proceeded to visit the top Qf 
Mount Etna. By the time they reached the bottom 
of the cone, several of the party became so unwell that 
they could proceed no farther ; but this gentleman, 
accompanied by two other officers, and two guides, pro- 
ceeded upwards ; and, after a severe scramble of several 
hours, they reached the summit in time to witness the 
risiug of the sun. " After having rested for about an 
hour," says my informer, " and had something to eat, 
I said to my companions, — we are now on the top of this 
famous crater, why should we not pay a visit to the 
bottom ? I was of course laughed at, and, on applying 
to the guides to know if they would accompany me, they 
said, we have always heard that the English are mad, but 
now we know it. I was not, however, to be put off, and 
being strong and active, determined to go alone, — but 

Captain M at last agreed to go with me ; — the 

guides would not assist in any way. The circumference 
of the crater is about three miles outside, the interior is 
like a large amphitheatre, with an area of about an acre, 
I should say, at the bottom. It is only towards the upper 
lips of the crater that smoke now issues, — no eruption 
having taken place from the bottom for very many years. 
At one particular part of the crater the matter had given 
way, and slid down, so as to form a kind of sloping bank 
to the very bottom. To this point we proceeded, and 
found our descent easy enough ; and without much diffi- 
culty or any great danger, we stood, in the course of an 
hour, to the no small astonishment of the guides, on the 
very lowest stone on the inside of the crater of Mount 
Etna. In the centre is a large hole, like an old draw- 
well, partly filled up with large stones and ashes. Our 
ascent was tremendous, and the fatigue excessive. I 
suppose we were at least 500 feet below the lowest part 
of the upper mouth of the crater, and, as our footing 



DBEAitflNG. 213 

was entirely on ashes, and stuff "which gaye way, the 
struggle upwards was a trial of bottom, which I believe 
very few would have gone through. We reached the 
top much exhausted, but very proud of our achievement : 
and we had the satisfaction to learn at Catania, that we 
were not only the first who ever went down, but the first 
who had ever thought of it. When in bed that night, 
but not asleep, the dream of ten years back came to my 
recollection for the first time ; and it does appear to me 
remarkable, that I should have dreamt of what I never 
could have heard of as being possible, and that ten years 
afterwards I should accomplish what no one ever had 
attempted, and what was looked upon by the natives as 
an impossibility." 

To this part of the subject we are to refer those in- 
stances, many of them authentic, in which a dream has 
given notice of an event which was occurring at the time, 
or occurred soon after. The following story has been 
long mentioned in Edinburgh, and there seems no reason 
to doubt its authenticity. A clergyman had come to this 
city from a short distance in the country, and was sleep- 
ing at an inn, when he dreamt of seeing a fire and one 
of his children in the midst of it. He awoke with the 
impression, and instantly left town on his return home. 
When he arrived within sight of his house, he found it 
on fire, and got there in time to assist in saving one of 
his children, who, in the alarm and confusion, had been 
left in a situation of danger. Without calling in question 
the possibility of supernatural communication in such 
cases, this striking occurrence, of which I believe there is 
little reason to doubt the truth, may perhaps be accounted 
for on simple and natural principles. Let us suppose 
that the gentleman had a servant who had shown great 
carelessness in regard to fire, and had often given rise 
in his mind to a strong apprehension that he might set 
fire to the house. His anxiety might be increased by 
being from home, and the same circumstance might 



214 EEASON. 

make the servant still more careless. Let us farther 
suppose that the gentleman, before going to bed, had, in 
addition to this anxiety, suddenly recollected that there 
was on that day, in the neighbourhood of his house, some 
fair, or periodical merry-making, from which the servant 
was very likely to return home in a state of intoxication. 
It was most natural that these impressions should be 
embodied into a dream of his house being on fire, and 
that the same circumstance might lead to the dream 
being fulfilled. 

A gentleman in Edinburgh was affected with aneurism 
of the popliteal artery, for which he was under the care 
of two eminent surgeons, and the day was fixed for the 
operation. About two days before the time appointed 
for it, the wife of the patient dreamt that a change had 
taken place in the disease, in consequence of which the 
operation would not be required. On examining the 
tumour in the morning, the gentleman was astonished to 
find that the pulsation had entirely ceased ; and, in short, 
this turned out to be a spontaneous cure. To persons 
not professional, it may be right to mention, that the 
cure of popliteal aneurism without an operation is a very 
uncommon occurrence, not happening in one out of 
numerous instances, and never to be looked upon as 
probable in any individual case. It is likely, however, 
that the lady had heard of the possibility of such a ter- 
mination, and that her anxiety had very naturally em- 
bodied this into a dream : the fulfilment of it at the very 
time when the event took place is certainly a very 
remarkable coincidence. — The following anecdotes also I 
am enabled to give as entirely authentic. — A lady dreamt 
that an aged female relative had been murdered by a 
black servant, and the dream occurred more than once. 
She w 7 as then so impressed by it, that she went to the 
house of the lady to whom it related, and prevailed upon 
a gentleman to watch in an adjoining room during the 
following night. About three o'clock in the morning, the 



DREAMING 215 

gentleman, hearing footsteps on the stair, left his place of 
concealment, and met the servant carrying up a quantity 
of coals. Being questioned as to where he was going, 
he replied, in a confused and hurried manner, that he 
was going to mend his mistress's fire, which, at three 
o'clock in the morning, in the middle of summer, was 
evidently impossible; and, on farther investigation, a 
strong knife was found concealed beneath the coals. — 
Another lady dreamt that a boy, her nephew, had been 
drowned along with some young companions with whom 
he had engaged to go on a sailing excursion in the Firth 
of Forth. She sent for him in the morning, and, with 
much difficulty, prevailed upon him to give up his en- 
gagement ; his companions went and were all drowned. — 
A lady in Edinburgh had sent her watch to be repaired ; 
a long time elapsed without her being able to recover it, 
and, after many excuses, she began to suspect that some- 
thing was wrong. She now dreamt that the watchmaker's 
boy, by whom the watch was sent, had dropped it in the 
street, and injured it in such a manner that it could not 
be repaired. She then went to the master, and, without 
any allusion to her dream, put the question to him 
directly, when he confessed that it was true. 

Such coincidences derive their wonderful character 
from standing alone, and apart from those numerous 
instances in which such dreams take place without any 
fulfilment. An instance of a very singular kind is men- 
tioned by Mr. Joseph Taylor, and is given by him as an 
undoubted fact. A young man who was at an academy 
a hundred miles from home, dreamt that he went to his 
fathers house in the night, tried the front-door, but 
found it locked ; got in by a back-door, and, finding 
nobody out of bed, went directly to the bed-room of his 
parents. He then said to his mother, whom he found 
awake, " Mother, I am going a long journey, and am 
come to bid you good bye." On this, she answered under 
much agitation, " Oh, dear son, thou art dead!" He 



216 REASON. 

instantly awoke, and thought no more of his dream, until, 
a few days after, he received a letter from his father, 
inquiring very anxiously after his health, in consequence 
of a frightful dream his mother had on the same night 
in which the dream now mentioned occurred to him. 
She dreamt that she heard some one attempt to open 
the front-door, then go to the back-door, and at last come 
into her bed-room. She then saw it was her son, who 
came to the side of her bed, and said, " Mother, I am 
going a long journey, and am come to bid you good 
bye;" on which she exclaimed, " Oh, dear son, thou art 
dead ! " But nothing unusual happened to auy of the 
parties ; — the singular dream must have originated in 
some strong mental impression which had been made on 
both individuals about the same time ; and to have traced 
the source of it would have been a subject of great 
interest. 

On a similar principle, we are to account for some of 
the stories of second sight. A gentleman sitting by the 
fire on a stormy night, and anxious about some of his 
domestics who are at sea in a boat, drops asleep for a few 
seconds, dreams very naturally of drowning men, and 
starts up with an exclamation that his boat is lost. If 
the boat returns in safety, the vision is no more thought 
of. If it is lost, as is very likely to happen, the story 
passes for second sight; and it is, in fact, one of the 
anecdotes that are given as the most authentic instances 
of it. 

It is unnecessary to multiply examples of the fulfil- 
ment of dreams on the principles which have now been 
mentioned ; but I am induced to add the following, as 
it is certainly of a very interesting kind, and as I am 
enabled to give it as entirely authentic in all its parti- 
culars. A most respectable clergyman, in a country 
parish of Scotland, made a collection at his church for 
an object of public benevolence, in which he felt deeply 
interested. The amount of the collection, which was 



DKEAMTNG. &17 

received in ladles carried through the church, fell greatly 
short of his expectation ; and, during the evening of the 
day, he frequently alluded to this with expressions of 
much disappointment. In the following night he dreamt 
that three one-pound notes had been left in one of the 
ladles, having been so compressed by the money which 
had been thrown in above them, that they had stuck in 
the corner when the ladle was emptied. He was so im- 
pressed by the vision, that at an early hour in the morn- 
ing he went to the church ; — found the ladle which he 
had seen in his dream, and drew from one of the corners 
of it three one-pound notes. This interesting case is 
perhaps capable of explanation upon simple principles. 
It appears, that on the evening preceding the day of the 
collection, the clergyman had been amusing himself by 
calculating what sum his congregation would probably 
contribute, and that, in doing so, he had calculated on a 
certain number of families, who would not give less than 
a pound each. Let us then suppose, that a particular 
ladle, which he knew to have been presented to three of 
these families, had been emptied in his presence, and 
found to contain no pound notes. His first feeling 
would be that of disappointment; but in afterwards 
thinking of the subject, and connecting it with his former 
calculation, the possibility of the ladle not having been 
fully emptied might dart across his mind. This im- 
pression, which perhaps he did not himself recollect, 
might then be embodied into the dream, which, by a 
natural coincidence, was fulfilled. 

The four classes which have now been mentioned, 
appear to include the principal varieties of dreams : and 
it is often a matter of great interest to trace the manner 
in which the particular associations arise. Cases of dreams 
are indeed on record, which are not referable to any of 
the classes which have been mentioned, and which do 
not admit of explanation on any principle which we are 
able to trace. Many of these histories, there is every 



218 REASON. 

reason to believe, derive their marvellous character from 
embellishment and exaggeration ; and, in some instances 
which have been related to me in the most confident 
manner, I have found this to be the case after a little 
investigation. Others, however, do not admit of this 
explanation, and we are compelled to receive them as 
facts which we can in no degree account for. Many years 
ago there was mentioned in several of the newspapers, a 
dream which gave notice of the murder of Mr. Perceval. 
Through the kindness of an eminent medical friend in 
England, I have received the authentic particulars of 
this remarkable case, from the gentleman to whom the 
dream occurred. He resides in Cornwall, and eight 
days before the murder was committed, dreamt that he 
was in the lobby of the House of Cofnmons, and saw a 
small man enter, dressed in a blue coat and white waist- 
coat. Immediately after, he saw a man dressed in a 
brown coat with yellow basket metal buttons, draw a pistol 
from under his coat, and discharge it at the former, who 
instantly fell, — the blood issued from a wound a little 
below the left breast. He saw the murderer seized by 
some gentlemen who were present, and observed his 
countenance ; and on asking who the gentleman was who 
had been shot, he was told it was the Chancellor. (Mr. 
Perceval was, at the time, Chancellor of the Exchequer.) 
He then awoke, and mentioned the dream to his wife, 
who made light of it, — but in the course of the night the 
dream occurred three times without the least variation 
in any of the circumstances. He was now so much im- 
pressed by it, that he felt much inclined to give notice to 
Mr. Perceval, but was dissuaded by some friends whom 
he consulted, who assured him he would only get him- 
self treated as a fanatic. On the evening of the eighth 
day after, he received the account of the murder. Being 
in London a short time after, he found in the print-shops 
a representation of the scene, and recognised in it the 
countenances and dress of the parties, the blood on 



DEEAMING. 219 

Mr. Perceval's waistcoat, and the peculiar yellow basket 
buttons on Bellingham's coat, precisely as he had seen 
them in his dream. 

The gentleman to whom I am indebted for the follow- 
ing case was born in Madras, and was brought from 
thence at the age of three years, to be educated in 
England, where he grew up without the least recollection 
of anything relating to Madras, or to his parents, who 
remained in India. ,At the age of fourteen, he dreamt 
that he saw his mother sitting in the dress of a widow, 
and apparently under deep distress ; and he gave a dis- 
tinct account of the apartment in which he saw her, with 
the position of various prominent articles of furniture, 
which he described minutely. It afterwards turned out, 
that his father died about the time of the dream ; and 
that he had correctly described a drawing-room in the 
house at Madras in which his mother was in the habit 
of sitting. This last feature of the case, I think, we 
may fairly consider as the revival of an old impression 
respecting the drawing-room, though it had long ceased 
to be an object of memory ; of the other part I do not 
attempt an explanation. 

There are various other circumstances relating to the 
philosophy of dreams, which may be mentioned very 
briefly. It has been alleged that we never dream of 
objects which we have not seen. On this I cannot decide ; 
but we certainly dream of things in combinations in which 
they never occurred to us. Our dreams appear to be very 
much influenced by the intensity of our conceptions, and, 
in this respect, there is great variety in regard to the 
objects of the different senses. Our most vivid concep- 
tions are certainly of objects of sight ; and they appear 
to be much less distinct in regard to tastes, smells, and 
even sounds. Accordingly, I think dreams are chiefly 
occupied with objects of sight ; and I am not sure that 
we dream of tastes, or smells ; or even sounds, unless 



220 KEASON. 

■when a sound actually takes place, as in several instances 
which have been mentioned. This, indeed, only applies 
to simple sounds, for we certainly dream of persons speak- 
ing to us, and of understanding what they say, — but I 
am not sure that this is necessarily accompanied with a 
conception of sound. I am informed by a friend, who is 
a keen sportsman, that he often dreams of being on 
shooting excursions ; — that he starts his game, and points 
his gun, but never succeeds in firing it. It sometimes 
seems to miss fire, but in general there appears to be 
something wrong with the lock, so that it cannot be 
moved. A gentleman, mentioned by Dr. Darwin, had 
been for thirty years so deaf that he could be conversed 
with only in writing, or by forming letters with the 
fingers. He assured Dr. Darwin that he never dreamt 
of persons conversing with him except by the fingers or 
in writing, and that he never had the impression of hear- 
ing them speak. Two persons who had long been blind, 
also informed him, that they never dreamt of visible 
objects since the loss of their sight. Mr. Bew, however, 
in the Manchester Memoirs, mentions a blind gentleman 
who dreamt of the figure, though he could not distinguish 
the varieties, of the human countenance ; and Smellie 
mentions of Dr. Blacklock, who lost his sight at the 
age of a few months, that, in his dreams, he had a dis- 
tinct impression of a sense which he did not possess 
when awake. He described his impression by saying, 
that when awake there were three ways by which he 
could distinguish persons, — namely, by hearing them 
speak, by feeling the head and shoulders, and by attend- 
ing to the sound and manner of their breathing. In his 
dreams, however, he had a vivid impression of objects, in 
a manner distinct from any of these modes. He imagined 
that he was united to them by a kind of distant contact, 
which was effected by threads or strings passing from 
their bodies to his own. 

On a similar principle, probably, we may explain the 



DREAiTTNG. 221 

fact that dreams refer chiefly to persons or events which 
we have actually seen, though they are put into new 
combinations ; and that we more rarely dream of objects 
of simple memory, unless they have been strongly asso- 
ciated with some object of conception. Thus we seldom 
dream of events or characters in ancient history. Dr. 
Beattie, indeed, mentions having dreamt of crossing the 
Alps with Hannibal ; but such dreams, I think, are very 
rare. It would be curious to observe their occurrence, 
and to trace the train that leads to them. 

It appears, then, that the mental operations which 
take place in dreaming, consist chiefly of old conceptions 
and old associations, following one another according to 
some principle of succession over which we have no control. 
But there are facts on record which show mental opera- 
tions in dreams, of a much more intellectual character. 
Many people have been conscious of something like com- 
position hi dreams. Dr. Gregory mentions, that thoughts, 
which sometimes occurred to him in dreams, and even 
the particular expressions in which they were conveyed, 
appeared to him afterwards, when awake, so just in point 
of reasoning and illustration, and so good in point of 
language, that he has used them in his college lectures, 
and in his written lucubrations. Condorcet related of 
himself, that, when engaged in some profound and obscure 
calculations, he was often obliged to leave them in an 
incomplete state, and retire to rest ; and that the re • 
maining steps, and the conclusion of his calculations, 
had more than once presented themselves in his dreams. 
Dr. Franklin also informed Cabanis, that the bearings 
and issue of political events, which had puzzled him 
when awake, were not unfrequently unfolded to him in 
his dreams. A gentleman of Edinburgh, whose name is 
deeply associated with the literature of his country, had 
been one day much amused by reading a very witty 
epigram, by Piron, on the French Academy. In a dream 
the following night, he composed a parody or imitation 



222 EEASON. 

of it, much at the expense of a learned Society in Edin- 
burgh, and some individuals of this city. — A gentleman 
had been reading an account of the cruelties practised 
upon some Christians in Turkey, by the mutilation of 
their noses and ears. In a dream the following night, 
he witnessed the execution of a punishment of this kind, 
and heard a Turk, who was standing by, address the suf- 
ferer in some doggerel rhymes, which he distinctly recol- 
lected and repeated in the morning. Another gentleman 
invented a French verb in a dream. He thought he was 
in a very close sort of pent-house, with such a number of 
persons, that they were threatened with suffocation, as 
there appeared no way of letting in air. In this state he 
called out — il faut detoiter. There is no such word, 
but it was evidently formed from toit the roof of a 
building. 

The following anecdote has been preserved in a family 
of rank in Scotland, the descendants of a distinguished 
lawyer of the last age. This eminent person had been 
consulted respecting a case of great importance and much 
difficulty ; and he had been studying it with intense 
anxiety and attention. After several days had been 
occupied in this manner, he was observed by his wife to 
rise from his bed in the night, and go to a writing-desk 
which stood in the bed room. He then sat down, and 
wrote a long paper, which he put carefully by in the 
desk, and returned to bed. The following morning he 
told his wife that he had had a most interesting dream ; 
— that he had dreamt of delivering a clear and luminous 
opinion respecting a case which had exceedingly per- 
plexed him ; and that he would give anything to recover 
the train of thought which had passed before him in his 
dream. She then directed him to the writing-desk 
where he found the opinion clearly and fully written 
out, and which was afterwards found to be perfectly 
correct. 

There can be no doubt that many dreams take place 



DREAMING. 223 

•which are not remembered, as appears from the fact of 
a person talking in his sleep, so as to be distinctly under- 
stood, without remembering anything of the impression 
that gave rise to it. It is probable, also, that the 
dreams which are most distinctly remembered, are those 
which occur during imperfect sleep, or when the sleep 
begins to be broken by an approach towards waking. 
Another very peculiar state has perhaps occurred to most 
people, in which there is a distressing dream, and at the 
same time an impression that it probably is only a 
dream. This appears to take place in a still more im- 
perfect state of sleep, in which there is the immediate 
approach to waking, and to the exercise of the reasoning 
powers. But there are some very singular facts on 
record, of this kind of reasoning being applied to dreams 
for the purpose of dissipating them. Dr. Beattie men- 
tions of himself, that, in a dream, he once found himself 
standing in a very peculiar situation on the parapet of a 
bridge. Recollecting, he says, that he never was given 
to pranks of this nature, he began to fancy that it 
might be a dream, and determined to throw himself 
headlong, in the belief that this would restore his 
senses, which accordingly took place. In the same 
manner, Dr. Reid cured himself of a tendency to fright- 
ful dreams, with which he had been annoyed from his 
early years. He endeavoured to fix strongly on his 
mind the impression, that all such dangers in dreams are 
but imaginary ; and determined, whenever in a dream he 
found himself on the brink of a precipice, to throw himself 
over, and so dissipate the vision. By persevering in 
this method, he so removed the propensity, that for 
forty years, he was never sensible of dreaming, though 
he was very attentive in his observation on the subject. 

Some persons are never conscious of dreaming ; and a 
gentleman, mentioned by Locke, was not sensible of 
dreaming till he had a fever at the age of twenty-six or 
twenty-seven. 



224 EEASON. 

A leading peculiarity in the phenomena of dreaming 
is the loss of power over the succession of our thoughts. 
We have seen that there are some exceptions to this, but 
the fact applies to by far the greater number of dreams, 
and some curious phenomena appear to be referable to it. 
Of this kind are probably some of those singular in- 
stances of imaginary difficulties occurring in dreams, on 
subjects on which none could be felt in the waking state. 
It is not uncommon for a clergyman to dream that he is 
going to preach, and cannot find his text ; or for a 
clergyman of the Church of England, that he cannot find 
the place in the prayer-book. This, I think, can only 
be explained by supposing, that, in the chain of ideas 
passing through the mind, the church and prayer-book 
had come up, but had then led off into some other train, 
and not into that of actually going on with the service ; 
while, at the same time, there arose in the mind a kind 
of impression that, under these circumstances, it ought 
to have been gone on with. 

The remarkable analogy between dreaming and insa- 
nity has already been referred to ; and I shall only add 
the following illustration. Dr. Gregory mentions a 
maniac who had been for some time under his care, and 
entirely recovered. For a week after his recovery, he 
was harassed, during his dreams, by the same rapid 
and tumultuous thoughts, and the same violent passions, 
by which he had been agitated during his insanity. 

The slight outline which has now been given of 
dreaming may serve to show that the subject is not only 
curious but important. It appears to be worthy of careful 
investigation, and there is much reason to believe that 
an extensive collection of authentic facts, carefully ana- 
lysed, would unfold principles of very great interest in 
reference to the philosophy of the mental powers. 



SOMNAMBULISM. 225 



II. SOMNAMBULISM. 



Somnambulism appears to differ from dreaming chiefly 
in the degree in which the bodily functions are affected. 
The mind is fixed, in the same manner as in dreaming, 
upon its own impressions, as possessing a real and 
present existence in external things; but the bodily 
organs are more under the control of the will, so that 
the individual acts under the influence of his erroneous 
conceptions, and holds conversation in regard to them. 
He is also, to a certain degree, susceptible of impressions 
from without through his organs of sense ; not however 
so as to correct his erroneous impressions, but rather 
to be mixed up with them. Various remarkable pheno- 
mena arise out of these peculiarities, which will be illus- 
trated by a slight outline of this singular affection. 

The first degree of somnambulism generally shows 
itself by a propensity to talk during sleep ; — the person 
giving a full and connected account of what passes before 
him in dreams, and often revealing his own secrets or 
those of his friends. Walking during sleep is the next 
degree, and that from which the affection derives its 
name. The phenomena connected with this form are 
familiar to every one. The individual gets out of bed 
dresses himself; if not prevented, goes out of doors 
walks frequently over dangerous places in safety ; some 
times escapes by a window, and gets to the roof a house 
after a considerable interval, returns and goes to bed 
and all that has passed conveys to his mind merely the 
impression of a dream. A young nobleman, mentioned 
by Horstius, living in the citadel of Breslau, was observed 
by his brother, who occupied the same room, to rise in 
his sleep, wrap himself in a cloak, and escape by a 
window to the roof of the building. He there tore in 
pieces a magpie's nest, wrapped the young birds in his 
cloak, returned to his apartment, and went to bed. In 
the morning he mentioned the circumstances as having 
Q 



226 EEASON. 

occurred in a dream, and could not be persuaded that there 
had been anything more than a dream, till he was shown 
the magpies in his cloak. Dr. Prichard mentions a man 
who rose in his sleep, dressed himself, saddled his horse, 
and rode to the place of a market which he was in the habit 
of attending once every week ; and Martinet mentions a 
man who was accustomed to rise in his sleep, and pursue 
his business as a saddler. An American farmer, men- 
tioned by Professor Upham, rose in his sleep, went to 
his barn, and threshed out in the dark five bushels of 
rye, separating the grain from the straw with the greatest 
correctness. There are many instances on record of 
persons composing during the state of somnambulism ; 
as of boys rising in their sleep, and finishing their tasks 
which they had left incomplete. A gentleman, at one 
of the foreign universities, had been very intent during 
the day in the composition of some verses which he had not 
been able to complete : during the following night he rose 
in his sleep, and finished his composition ; then expressed 
great exultation, and returned to bed. 

I have received, from an eminent medical gentleman 
in London, a case presenting some interesting features, 
which occurred in the person of a young man, residing 
in his house as a pupil. This young gentleman was a 
zealous botanist, and had lately received the highest 
botanical prize from a public institution. One night, 
about an hour after he had gone to bed, after his return 
from a long botanical excursion, his master, who was 
sitting in a room below, heard a person coming down 
stairs with a heavy measured step, and, on going into the 
passage, found his pupil, with nothing on him but his 
hat and his shirt, his tin case swung across his shoulders, 
and a large stick in his hand. " His eyes," says my in- 
former, " were more open than natural, but I observed 
he never directed them to me, or to the candle which I 
held. While I was contemplating the best method of 
getting him to bed again, he commenced the following 



SOMNAMBULISM. 227 

dialogue : ' Are you going to Greenwich, sir ? ' ' Yes, 
sir.' 'Going by water, sir?' 'Yes, sir.' 'May I go 
with you, sir?' 'Yes, sir; but I am going directly, 
therefore please to follow me.' Upon this I walked up 
to his room, and he followed me without the least error 
in stepping up the stairs. At the side of his bed, I 
begged he would get into the boat, as I must be off im- 
mediately. I then removed the tin case from his shoul- 
ders, his hat dropped off, and he got into bed, observing 
he knew my face very well, — he had often seen me at the 
river's side." A long conversation then ensued between 
him and the supposed boatman, in which he understood 
all that was said to him, and answered quite correctly 
respecting botanical excursions to Greenwich made by the 
professor of botany and his pupils ; and named a rare 
plant he had lately found, of which the superintendent of 
the botanic garden had seen only one specimen in his life, 
and the professor only two. After some farther conver- 
sation he was asked whether he knew who had gained 
the highest botanical prize ; when he named a gentleman, 
but did not name himself. "Indeed!" was the reply; 
" did he gain the highest prize?" To this he made no 

answer. He was then asked, " Do you know Mr. ," 

naming himself; after much hesitation, he replied, " If 
I must confess it, my name is — — ." This conversation 
lasted three quarters of an hour, during which time he 
never made an irrelevant answer, and never hesitated, 
except about the prize and his own name. He then lay 
down in bed, saying he felt tired, and would lie upon 
the grass till the professor came. But he soon sat up 
again, and held a long conversation with another gentle- 
man who then came into the room, when he again 
understood everything that was said to him, and 
answered readily and correctly, sometimes uttering long 
sentences without the least hesitation. After a conver- 
sation of about an hour, he said, " It is very cold on this 
grass, but I am so tired I must lie down." He soon 
q 2 



228 REASON. 

after lay down, and remained quiet the rest of the night. 
Next morning he had not the least recollection of what 
had passed, and was not even aware of having dreamt of 
anything. 

In these common cases the affection occurs during 
ordinary sleep ; but a condition very analogous is met 
with, coming on in the day-time, in paroxysms, during 
which the person is affected in the same manner as in 
the state of somnambulism, particularly with an insen- 
sibility to external impressions; — this presents some 
singular phenomena. These attacks in some cases come 
on without any warning ; in others, they are preceded by 
noise or a sense of confusion in the head. The indi- 
viduals then become more or less abstracted, and are 
either unconscious of any external impression, or very 
confused in their notions of external things. They are 
very frequently able to talk in an intelligible and consis- 
tent manner, but always in reference to the impression 
which is present in their own minds. They, in some 
cases, repeat long pieces of poetry, often more correctly 
than they can do in their waking state, and not unfre- 
quently things which they could not repeat in their state 
of health, or of which they were supposed to be entirely 
ignorant. In other cases, they hold conversation with 
imaginary beings, or relate circumstances or conversations 
which occurred at remote periods, and which they were 
supposed to have forgotten. Some have been known to 
sing in a style far superior to anything they could do in 
their waking state ; and there are some well-authenticated 
instances of persons in this condition expressing them- 
selves correctly in languages with which they were 
imperfectly acquainted. Some years ago I had under my 
care a young lady, who was liable to an affection of this 
kind, which came on repeatedly during the day, and 
continued from ten minutes to an hour at a time. With- 
out any warning, her body became motionless, her eyes 
open, fixed, and entirely insensible; and she became 



SOMNAMBULISM. 229 

totally unconscious of any external impression. She was 
frequently seized while playing on the piano, and con- 
tinued to play over and over a part of a tune, with 
perfect correctness, hut without advancing "beyond a 
certain point. On one occasion, she was seized after she 
had hegun to play from the hook a piece of music which 
was new to her. During the paroxysm, she continued 
the part which she had played, and repeated it five or 
six times with perfect correctness ; but, on coming out 
of the attack, she could not play it without the hook. 

During the paroxysms, the individuals are, in some 
instances, totally insensible to anything that is said to 
them ; but in others, they are capable of holding conver- 
sation with another person with a tolerable degree of 
consistency, though they are influenced to a certain 
degree by their mental visions, and are very confused in 
their notions of external things. In many cases, again, 
they are capable of going on with the manual occupations 
in which they had been engaged before the attack. This 
occurred remarkably in a watchmaker's apprentice men- 
tioned by Martinet. The paroxysms in him appeared 
once in fourteen days, and commenced with a feeling of 
heat extending from the epigastrium to the head. This 
was followed by confusion of thought, and this by com- 
plete insensibility; his eyes were open but fixed and 
vacant, and he was totally insensible to anything that 
was said to him, or to any external impression. But he 
continued his usual employment, and was always much 
astonished, on his recovery, to find the change that had 
taken place in his work since the commencement of 
the paroxysm. This case afterwards passed into epilepsy. 

Some remarkable phenomena are presented by this 
singular affection, especially in regard to exercises of 
memory, and the manner in which old associations are 
recalled into the mind ; — also in the distinct manner in 
which the individuals sometimes express themselves, on 
subjects with which they had formerly shown but an 



230 EEASON. 

imperfect acquaintance. In some of the French cases of 
epidemic "extase," this has been magnified into speaking 
unknown languages, predicting future events, and de- 
scribing occurrences of which the persons could not have 
possessed any knowledge. These stories seem in some 
cases to resolve themselves merely into embellishment of 
what really occurred, but in others there can be no doubt 
of connivance and imposture. Some facts however appear 
to be authentic, and are sufficiently remarkable. Two 
females, mentioned by Bertrand, expressed themselves 
during the paroxysm very distinctly in Latin. They 
afterwards admitted that they had some acquaintance 
with the language, though it was imperfect. An ignorant 
servant girl, mentioned by Dr. Dewar, during paroxysms 
of this kind, showed an astonishing knowledge of geo- 
graphy and astronomy ; and expressed herself, in her 
own language, in a manner which though often ludicrous, 
showed an understanding of the subject. The alterna- 
tions of the seasons, for example, she explained by saying 
that the earth was set a-gee. It was afterwards discovered 
that her notions on these subjects had been derived from 
overhearing a tutor giving instructions to the young 
people of the family. A woman who was, some time ago, 
in the Infirmary of Edinburgh, on account of an affection 
of this kind, during the paroxysms mimicked the manner 
of the physicians, and repeated correctly some of their 
prescriptions in the Latin language. 

Another very singular phenomenon, presented by 
some instances of this affection, is what has been called, 
rather incorrectly, a state of double consciousness. It 
consists in the individual recollecting, during a paroxysm, 
circumstances which occurred in a former attack, though 
there was no remembrance of them during the interval. 
This, as well as various other phenomena connected with 
the affection, is strikingly illustrated in a case described 
by Dr. Dyce of Aberdeen, in the Edinburgh Philoso- 
phical Transactions. The patient was a servant girl, and 



SOMNAMBULISM. 231 

the affection began with fits of somnolency, which came 
upon her suddenly during the day, and from which she 
could, at first, be roused by shaking, or by being taken 
into the open air. She soon began to talk a great deal 
during the attacks, regarding things which seemed to be 
passing before her as a dream ; and she was not, at this 
time, sensible of anything that was said to her. On one 
occasion, she repeated distinctly the baptismal service of 
the Church of England, and concluded with an extem- 
porary prayer. In her subsequent paroxysms she began 
to understand what was said to her, and to answer with 
a considerable degree of consistency, though the answers 
were generally to a certain degree influenced by her 
hallucinations. She also became capable of following 
her usual employments during the paroxysms ; at one 
time she laid out the table correctly for breakfast, and 
repeatedly dressed herself and the children of the family, 
her eyes remaining shut the whole time. The remark- 
able circumstance was now discovered, that, during the 
paroxysm, she had a distinct recollection of what took 
place in former paroxysms, though she had no remem- 
brance of it during the intervals. At one time, she was 
taken to church while under the attack, and there 
behaved with propriety, evidently attending to the 
preacher ; and she was at one time so much affected as 
to shed tears. In the interval she had no recollection of 
having been at church; but in the next paroxysm she 
gave a most distinct account of the sermon, and men- 
tioned particularly the part of it by which she had been 
so much affected. 

This woman described the paroxysm as coming on 
with a cloudiness before her eyes, and a noise in the head. 
During the attack, her eyelids were generally half-shut; 
her eyes sometimes resembled those of a person affected 
with amaurosis, that is, with a dilated and insensible 
state of the pupil, but sometimes they were quite natural. 
She had a dull vacant look, but, when excited, knew 



232 REASON. 

what was said to her, though she often mistook the 
person who was speaking ; and it was observed, that she 
seemed to discern objects best which were faintly illumi- 
nated. The paroxysms generally continued about an 
hour, but she could often be roused out of them; she 
then yawned and stretched herself, like a person awaking 
out of sleep, and instantly knew those about her. At 
one time, during the attack, she read distinctly a por- 
tion of a book which was presented to her : and she often 
sung, both sacred and common pieces, incomparably 
better, Dr. Dyce affirms, than she could do in the waking 
state. The affection continued to recur for about six 
months, and ceased when a particular change took place 
in her constitution. 

Several points in this remarkable case will be strik- 
ingly illustrated by the following history, which I have 
received from a lady of high intelligence, who was her- 
self a witness of the facts she has related. A girl aged 
seven years, an orphan of the lowest rank, residing in 
the house of a farmer, by whom she was employed 
in tending cattle, was accustomed to sleep in an apart- 
ment separated by a veiy thin partition from one which 
was frequently occupied by an itinerant fiddler. This 
person was a musician of veiy considerable skill, and often 
spent a part of the night in performing pieces of a 
refined description ; but his performance was not taken 
notice of by the child except as a disagreeable noise. 
After a residence of six months in this family she fell 
into bad health, and was removed to the house of a 
benevolent lady, where, on her recovery after a protracted 
illness, she was employed as a servant. Some years after 
she came to reside with this lady, the most beautiful 
music was often heard in the house during the night, 
which excited no small interest and wonder in the 
family ; and many a waking hour was spent in en- 
deavours to discover the invisible minstrel. At length 



SOMNAMBULISM. 233 

the sound was traced to the sleeping-room of the girl, who 
was found fast asleep, hut uttering from her lips a sound 
exactly resembling the sweetest tones of a small violin. 
On farther observation it was found, that, after being 
about two hours in bed, she became restless and began to 
mutter to herself; — she then uttered sounds precisely 
resembling the tuning of a violin, and at length after some 
prelude, dashed off into elaborate pieces of music, which 
she performed in a clear and accurate manner, and with 
a sound exactly resembling the most delicate modulations 
of that instrument. During the performance she some- 
times stopped, made the sound of retuning her instrument, 
and then began exactly where she had stopped, in the 
most correct manner. These paroxysms occurred at 
irregular intervals, varying from one to fourteen or even 
twenty nights ; and they were generally followed by a 
degree of fever, and pains over various parts of her body. 
After a year or two, her music was not confined to the 
imitation of the violin, but was often exchanged for that 
of a piano of a very old description which she was 
accustomed to hear in the house where she now lived ; 
and she then also began to sing, imitating exactly the 
voices of several ladies of the family. In another year 
from this time she began to talk a great deal in her 
sleep, in which she seemed to fancy herself instructing 
a younger companion. She often descanted with the 
utmost fluency and correctness on a variety of topics, 
both political and religious, the news of the day, the 
historical parts of scripture, public characters, and par- 
ticularly the characters of members of the family and 
their visitors. In these discussions she showed the most 
wonderful discrimination, often combined with sarcasm, 
and astonishing powers of mimicry. Her language 
through the whole was fluent and correct, and her illus- 
trations often forcible, and even eloquent. She was fond 
of illustrating her subjects by what she called a fable, and 
in these her imagery was both appropriate and elegant. 



234 KEAS0N. 

" She was by no means," says my informer, " limited in 
her range, — Buonaparte, Wellington, Blucher, and all 
the kings of the earth, figured among the phantasmagoria 
of her brain ; and all were animadverted upon with such 
freedom from restraint, as often made me think poor 
Nancy had been transported into Madame Genlis' Palace 
of Truth. The justness and truth of her remarks on all 
subjects, excited the utmost astonishment in those who 
were acquainted with her limited means of acquiring 
information." She has been known to conjugate cor- 
rectly Latin verbs which she had probably heard in the 
school-room of the family ; and she was once heard to 
speak several sentences very correctly in French, — at the 
same time stating that she heard them from a foreign 
gentleman whom she had met accidentally in a shop. 
Being questioned on this subject when awake, she 
remembered having seen the gentleman, but could not 
repeat a word of what he said. During her paroxysms 
it was almost impossible to awake her, and when her 
eye-lids were raised, and a candle brought near the eye, 
the pupil seemed insensible to the light. For several 
years she was, during the paroxysms, entirely unconscious 
of the presence of other persons ; but, about the age of 
sixteen, she began to observe those who were in the 
apartment, and she could tell correctly their numbers, 
though the utmost care was taken to have the room 
darkened. She now also became capable of answering 
questions that were put to her, and of noticing remarks 
made in her presence ; and, with regard to both, she showed 
astonishing acuteness. Her observations indeed were 
often of such a nature, and corresponded so accurately 
with characters and events, that, by the country people, 
she was believed to be endowed with supernatural powers. 
During the whole period of this remarkable affection, 
which seems to have gone on for at least ten or eleven 
years, she was, when awake, a dull awkward girl, very 
slow in receiving any kind of instruction, though much 



SOMNAMBULISM. 235 

care was bestowed upon her ; and, in point of intellect, 
she was much inferior to the other servants of the 
family. In particular she showed no kind of turn for 
music. She did not appear to have any recollection of 
what passed during her sleep ; but, during her nocturnal 
rambling, she was more than once heard to lament her 
infirmity of speaking in her sleep, adding how fortunate 
it was that she did not sleep among the other servants, 
as they teased her enough about it as it was. About the 
age of twenty-one, she became immoral in her conduct, 
and was dismissed from the family. Her propensity to 
talk in her sleep continued to the time of her dismissal, 
but a great change had taken place in her nocturnal 
conversation. It had gradually lost its acuteness and 
brilliancy, and latterly became the mere babblings of a 
vulgar mind, often mingled with insolent remarks against 
her superiors, and the most profane scoffing at morality 
and religion. It is believed that she afterwards became 



To this remarkable history I shall only add a short 
account of another servant girl, whose case I have re- 
ceived from her master, a most intelligent clergyman. 
This woman was very much addicted to talking in her 
sleep ; and, after some observation, it was discovered, 
that, in doing so, she went over all the transactions of 
the preceding day ; everything, especially, that she had 
herself said, was distinctly repeated in the order in which 
she had spoken it. In general she commenced imme- 
diately after she had fallen asleep, and began by repeat- 
ing the first words she had spoken in the morning ; and 
then went through the other conversation of the day, 
adapting her tone and manner to the real occurrences. 
Thus, whether she had called aloud to a person at a 
distance, or whispered something which she did not wish 
to be overheard, — whether she had laughed or sung, 
everything was repeated in the order and in the tone of 



236 EEASON. 

voice in which it had actually occurred. In repeating 
conversations with others, she regularly left intervals in 
her discourse corresponding to the period when the 
other party was supposed to be replying ; and she also 
left intervals between different conversations, shorter in 
reality, but corresponding in relative length to the inter- 
vals which had in fact taken place. Thus, if she had 
been for two hours without conversing with any other 
person, the interval in her nocturnal conversation was 
about ten minutes. In this manner she generally re- 
quired about two hours to rehearse the occurrences of 
the day. She was scarcely ever known to repeat any- 
thing she had read ; but she occasionally repeated 
psalms, as if she had been teaching them to a child; 
and it was observed that she repeated them much more 
correctly than she could do when awake. Along with 
these peculiarities, she exhibited the more common 
characters of somnambulism, frequently rising in her 
sleep, and pursuing her ordinary occupations in the 
kitchen, and even out of doors. On one occasion she 
awoke in the act of mounting a horse at the stable door, 
— and at another time, was roused by spraining her ancle 
while cutting grass in a ditch, at some distance from the 
house. These occupations were observed to have a 
relation to her engagements during the day, being either 
a repetition of something she had done, or the accom- 
plishment of what she had intended to do, but had been 
prevented from performing ; and sometimes it appeared 
to be something which she meant to do at the earliest hour 
on the following day. These various peculiarities had 
been matter of interesting observation for a considerable 
time, when she at length fell into a state of continued 
unconsciousness to external things, which went on for 
three days, during which time she attended to all her 
usual occupations. This began on a Sunday, and continued 
to the Wednesday. On that day, her master met her 
returning from an outhouse, carrying a number of eggs, 



SOMNAMBULISM. 237 

when he determined to attempt rousing her by shouting 
loudly in her ear. On his doing so, she awoke as from a 
sleep, and spoke to him sensibly, — but could give no 
account of the eggs, and could scarcely be persuaded that 
the day was not Sunday. In an hour she relapsed 
into the unconscious state, and was again roused in the 
same manner ; but, after some farther experiments, this 
expedient failed, in consequence of which she was taken 
to the house of her parents, and did not recover entirely 
for several weeks. After this, her former peculiarities 
became less remarkable, and gradually ceased. 

Among the histories of this singular affection, I have 
not found anything resembling the nocturnal conversa- 
tion which occurred in this case. One of a different 
kind, and also very remarkable, is mentioned by Von 
Hoven, as quoted by Treviranus. It occurred in a young 
man, a student, who, as soon as he fell asleep, began to 
speak aloud. The subject of his discourse was found to 
be a continued and connected dream, which each night 
began exactly where it had left off on the preceding. It 
had no relation to anything that had occurred to him in 
his waking state, and when awake he had no recollection 
of his dream. The affection continued about three 
weeks. 

Another very remarkable modification of this affection 
is referred to by Mr. Combe, as described by Major 
Elliot, Professor of Mathematics in the United States' 
Military Academy at West Point. The patient was a 
young lady of cultivated mind, and the affection began 
with an attack of somnolency, which was protracted 
several hours beyond the usual time. When she came 
out of it, she was found to have lost every kind of ac- 
quired knowledge. She immediately began to apply 
herself to the first elements of education, and was making 
considerable progress, when, after several months, she 
was seized with a second fit of somnolency. She was 
now at once restored to all the knowledge which she 



238 REASON. 

possessed before the first attack, but -without the least re : 
collection of anything that had taken place during the 
interval. After another interval, she had a third attack 
of somnolency, which left her in the same state as after 
the first. In this manner, she suffered these alternate 
conditions for a period of four years, with the very 
remarkable circumstance, — that, during the one state, 
she retained all her original knowledge, but, during the 
other, that only which she had acquired since the first 
attack. During the healthy interval, for example, she 
was remarkable for the beauty of her penmanship, but, 
during the paroxysm, wrote a poor awkward hand. Per- 
sons introduced to her during the paroxysm, she recog- 
nised only in a subsequent paroxysm, but not in the 
interval ; and persons whom she had seen for the first 
time during the healthy interval, she did not recognise 
during the attack. 

Of the remarkable condition of the mental faculties 
exemplified in these cases, it is impossible to give any 
explanation. Something very analogous to it occurs in 
other affections, though in a smaller degree. Dr. Prichard 
mentions a lady who was liable to sudden attacks of de- 
lirium, which, after continuing for various periods, went 
off as suddenly, leaving her at once perfectly rational. 
The attack was often so sudden, that it commenced while 
she was engaged in interesting conversation; and, on 
such occasions, it happened, that, on her recovery from 
the state of delirium, she instantly recurred to the con- 
versation she had been engaged in at the time of the 
attack, though she had never referred to it during the 
continuance of the affection. To such a degree was this 
carried, that she would even complete an unfinished sen- 
tence. During the subsequent paroxysm, again, she 
would pursue the train of ideas which had occupied her 
mind in the former. Mr. Combe also mentions a porter, 
who, in a state of intoxication, left a parcel at a wrong 
house, and, when sober, could not recollect what he had 



INSANITY. 239 

done with it. But the next time he got drunk, he recol- 
lected where he had left it, and went and recovered it. 

On this curious subject, I shall only add a remarkable 
case which I have received from a most respectable 
clergyman in England, and the facts of which occurred 
under his own immediate observation. A young woman 
of the lower rank, aged 19, became insane; but was 
gentle, and applied herself eagerly to various occupations. 
Before her insanity she had been only learning to read, 
and to form a few letters ; but during her insanity she 
taught herself to write perfectly, though all attempts of 
others to teach her failed, as she could not attend to any 
person who tried to do so. She has intervals of reason, 
which have frequently continued three weeks, sometimes 
longer. During these, she can neither read nor write ; 
but, immediately on the return of her insanity, she 
recovers her power of writing, and can read perfectly. 



IIT. INSANITY. 

Reason we have considered to be that exercise of 
mind by which we compare facts with each other, and 
mental impressions with external things. By means of 
it we are enabled to judge of the relations of facts, and 
of the agreement between our impressions and the actual 
state of things in the external world. We have seen also 
that peculiar power, which is possessed by the mind in a 
healthy state, of arresting or changing the train of its 
thoughts at pleasure, — of fixing the attention upon one, 
or transferring it to another, — of changing the train into 
something which is analogous to it, or of dismissing it 
altogether. This power is, to a greater or less degree, 
lost in insanity ; and the result is one of two conditions. 
Either the mind is entirely under the influence of a 
single impression, without the power of varying or dis- 
missing it, and comparing it with other impressions ; or 



240 REASON. 

it is left at the mercy of a chain of impressions which 
have been set in motion, and which succeed one another 
according to some principle of connexion, over which the 
individual has no control. In both cases, the mental 
impression is believed to have a real and present existence 
in the external world ; and this false belief is not cor- 
rected by the actual state of things as they present them- 
selves to the senses, or by any facts or considerations 
which can be communicated by other sentient beings 
Of the cause of this remarkable deviation from the healthy 
state of the mental functions we know nothing. We may 
trace its connexion with concomitant circumstances in 
the bodily functions, and we may investigate certain 
effects which result from it ; but the nature of the change, 
and the manner in which it is produced, are among those 
points in the arrangements of the Almighty Creator 
which entirely elude our researches. 

It appears, then, that there is a remarkable analogy 
between the mental phenomena in insanity and in 
dreaming ; and that the leading peculiarities of both 
these conditions are referable to two heads : — 

1. The impressions which arise in the mind are be- 
lieved to be real and present existences, and this belief 
is not corrected by comparing the conception with the 
actual state of things in the external world. 

2. The chain of ideas or images which arise, follow 
one another according to certain associations, over which 
the individual has no control ; he cannot, as in a healthy 
state, vary the series or stop it at his will. 

In the numerous forms of Insanity, we shall see these 
characters exhibited in various degrees ; but we shall be 
able to trace their influence in one degree or another 
through all the modifications ; and, in the higher states, 
or what we call perfect mania, we see them exemplified 
in the same complete manner as in dreaming. The 
maniac fancies himself a king, possessed of boundless 
power, and surrounded by every form of earthly splendour; 



INSANITY. 241 

and, with all his bodily senses in their perfect exercise, 
this hallucination is in no degree corrected by the sight 
of his bed of straw and all the horrors of his cell. 

From this state of perfect mania, the malady is traced 
through numerous gradations, to forms which exhibit 
slight deviations from the state of a sound mind. But 
they all show, in one degree or another, the same lead- 
ing characters, namely, that some impression has taken 
possession of the mind, and influences the conduct, in a 
manner in which it would not affect a sound under- 
standing; — and that this is not corrected by facts and 
considerations which are calculated immediately to remove 
the erroneous impression. The lower degrees of this 
condition we call eccentricity ; and, in common language, 
we often talk of a man being crazed upon a particular 
subject. This consists in giving to an impression or a 
fancy undue and extravagant importance, without taking 
into account other facts and considerations which ought 
to be viewed in connexion with it. The man of this 
character acts with promptitude upon a single idea, and 
seems to perceive nothing that interferes with it ; — he 
forms plans, and sees only important advantages which 
would arise from the accomplishment of them, without 
perceiving difficulties or objections. The impression 
itself may be correct, but an importance is attached to it 
disproportioned to its true tendency ; or consequences 
are deduced from, and actions founded upon it, which 
would not be warranted in the estimate of a sound under- 
standing. It is often difficult to draw the line between 
certain degrees of this condition and insanity ; and, in 
fact, they very often pass into each other. This will be 
illustrated by the following example. 

A clergyman in Scotland, after showing various ex- 
travagances of conduct, was brought before a jury to 
be cognosced ; that is, by a form of Scotch law, to be 
declared incapable of managing his own affairs, and 
placed under the care of trustees. Among the acts of 

R 



242 REASON. 

extravagance alleged against him was, that he had burnt 
his library. When he was asked by the jury what account 
he could give of this part of his conduct, he replied in 
the following terms : — " In the early part of my life I 
had imbibed a liking for a most unprofitable study, — 
controversial divinity. On reviewing my library, I found 
a great part of it to consist of books of this description, 
and I was so anxious that my family should not be led to 
follow the same pursuit, that I determined to burn the 
whole." He gave answers equally plausible to questions 
which were put to him, respecting other parts of his 
conduct; and the result was, that the jury found no 
sufficient ground for cognoscing him ; but, in the course 
of a fortnight from that time, he was in a state of 
decided mania. 

It is therefore incorrect to say of insanity, as has been 
said, that the maniac reasons correctly upon unsound 
data. His data may be unsound, that is, they may con- 
sist of a mental image which is purely visionary, as in 
the state of perfect mania lately referred to ; but this is 
by no means necessary to constitute the disease ; for his 
premises may be sound, though he distorts them in the 
results which he deduces from them. This was remark- 
ably the case in the clergyman now mentioned. His 
premises were sound and consistent, namely, his opinion 
of the unprofitable nature of the study of controversial 
divinity, and his anxiety that his family should not pro- 
secute it. His insanity consisted in the rapid and partial 
view which he took of the means for accomplishing his 
purpose, — burning his whole library. Had he sold his 
library, or that part of it which consisted of controversial 
divinity, the measure would have been in correct rela- 
tion to the object which he had in view; and if we 
suppose that, in going over his library, he had met with 
some books of an immoral tendency, — to have burnt 
these, to prevent them from falling into the hands of 
any individual, would have been the act both of a wise 



INSANITY. 243 

and a virtuous man. But to burn his whole library, to 
prevent his family from studying controversial divinity, 
was the suggestion of insanity, — distorting entirely the 
true relation of things, and carrying an impression, in 
itself correct, into consequences which it in no degree 
warranted. 

A remarkable peculiarity, in many cases of insanity, 
is a great activity of mind, and rapidity of conception, — 
a tendency to seize rapidly upon incidental or partial 
relations of things, — and often a fertility of imagination, 
which changes the character of the mind, sometimes 
without remarkably distorting it. The memory, in such 
cases, is entire, and even appears more ready than in 
health : and old associations are called up with a rapidity 
quite unknown to the individual in his sound state of 
mind. A gentleman mentioned by Dr. Willis, who was 
liable to periodical attacks of insanity, said that he ex- 
pected the paroxysms with impatience, because he enjoyed 
during them a high degree of pleasure. " Everything 
appeared easy to me. No obstacles presented them- 
selves, either in theory or practice. My memory ac- 
quired, all of a sudden, a singular degree of perfection. 
Long passages of Latin authors occurred to my mind. 
In general I have great difficulty in finding rhythmical 
terminations, but then I could write verses with as great 
facility as prose." "I have often," says Pinel, " stopped 
at the chamber-door of a literary gentleman, who, during 
his paroxysms, appears to soar above the mediocrity of 
intellect that was familiar to him, solely to admire his 
newly-acquired powers of eloquence. He declaimed upon 
the subject of the Be volution with all the force, the dig- 
nity, and the purity of language that this very interesting 
subject could admit of. At other times he was a man of 
very ordinary abilities." 

It is this activity of thought, and readiness of asso- 
ciation, that gives to maniacs of a particular class an 
appearance of great ingenuity and acuteness. Hence they 
b 2 



244 REASON. 

have been said to" reason acutely upon false premises; 
and one author has even alleged, that a maniac of a par- 
ticular kind would make an excellent logician. But to 
say that a maniac reasons either soundly or acutely, is 
an abuse of terms. He reasons plausibly and ingeni- 
ously ; that is, he catches rapidly incidental and partial 
relations ; and, from the rapidity with which they are 
seized upon, it may sometimes be difficult at first to 
detect their fallacy. He might have made a skilful 
logician of the schools, whose ingenuity consisted in 
verbal disputes, and frivolous distinctions ; but he never 
can be considered as exercising that sound logic, the aim 
of which is to trace the real relations of things, and the 
object of which is truth. 

The peculiar character of insanity, in all its modifica- 
tions, appears to be, that a certain impression has fixed 
itself upon the mind, in such a manner as to exclude all 
others ; or to exclude them from that influence which 
they ought to have on the mind in its estimate of the 
relations of things. This impression may be entirely 
visionary and unfounded ; or it may be in itself true, 
but distorted in the applications which the unsound mind 
makes of it, and the consequences which are deduced 
from it. Thus, a man of wealth fancies himself a beggar, 
and in danger of dying from hunger. Another takes up 
the same impression, who has, in fact, sustained some 
considerable loss. In the one, the impression is entirely 
visionary, like that which might occur in a dream. In 
the other, it is a real and true impression carried to con- 
sequences which it does not warrant. 

There is great variety in the degree to which the mind 
is influenced by the erroneous impression. In some 
cases it is such as entirely excludes all others, even those 
immediately arising from the evidence of the senses, as in 
the state of perfect mania formerly referred to. In many 
others, though in a less degree than this, it is such as to 
change the whole character. The particular manner, in 



INSANITY. 245 

which this more immediately appears, will depend of 
course upon the nature of the erroneous impression. A 
person, formerly most correct in his conduct and hahits, 
may become obscene and blasphemous ; accustomed oc- 
cupations become odious to him ; the nearest and most 
beloved friends become objects of his aversion and abhor- 
rence. Much interesting matter of observation often 
arises out of these peculiarities ; and it is no less inter- 
esting to observe, during convalescence, the gradual 
return to former habits and attachments. A young lady, 
mentioned by Dr. Rush, who had been for some time 
confined in a lunatic asylum, had shown, for several 
weeks, every mark of a sound mind, except one, — she 
hated her father. At length, she one day acknowledged, 
with pleasure, the return of her filial attachment, and 
was soon after discharged, entirely recovered. Even 
when the erroneous impression is confined to a single 
subject, it is remarkable how it absorbs the attention, to 
the exclusion of other feelings of a most intense and 
powerful kind. I knew a person of wealth, who had 
fallen into a temporary state of melancholic hallucina- 
tion, in connexion with a transaction in business which 
he regretted having made, but of which the real effect 
was of a trifling nature. While in this situation, the 
most severe distress occurred in his family, by the death 
of one of them under painful circumstances, without his 
being affected by it in the slightest degree. 

The uniformity of the impressions of maniacs is indeed 
so remarkable, that it has been proposed by Pinel as a 
test for distinguishing real from feigned insanity. He 
has seen melancholies confined in the Bicetre, for twelve, 
fifteen, twenty, and even thirty years ; and through the 
whole of that period, their hallucination has been limited 
to one subject. Others, after a course of years, have 
changed from one hallucination to another. A man, 
mentioned by him, was for eight years constantly haunted 
with the idea of being poisoned; he then changed his 



246 REASON. 

hallucination, became sovereign of the -world and ex- 
tremely happy, and thus continued for four years. 

The sudden revival of old impressions, after having 
been long entirely suspended by mental hallucination, 
presents some of the most singular phenomena connected 
with this subject. Dr. Prichard mentions an interesting 
case of this kind from the American Journal of Science. 
A man had been employed for a day with a beetle and 
wedges in splitting pieces of wood for erecting a fence. 
At night before going home, he put the beetle and wedges 
into the hollow of an old tree, and directed his sons, 
who had been at work in an adjoining field, to accom- 
pany him next morning to assist in making the fence. 
In the night he became maniacal, and continued in a 
state of insanity for several years, during which time his 
mind was not occupied with any of the subjects with 
which he had been conversant when in health. After 
several years his reason returned suddenly, and the first 
question he asked was, whether his sons had brought 
home the beetle and wedges. They, being afraid of 
entering upon any explanation, only said tbat they could 
not find them ; on which he rose from his bed, went to 
the field where he had been at work so many years 
before, and found, where he left them, the wedges, and 
the iron rings of the beetle, the wooden part being en- 
tirely mouldered away. — A lady, mentioned in the same 
journal, had been intensely engaged for some time in a 
piece of needle-work. Before she had completed it, she 
became insane, and continued in that state for seven 
years, after which her reason returned suddenly. One 
of the first questions she asked related to her needle- 
work, though she had never alluded to it, so far as was 
recollected, during her illness. I have formerly alluded 
to the remarkable case of a lady, who was liable to peri- 
odical paroxysms of delirium, which often attacked her 
so suddenly, that, in conversation, she would stop in the 
middle of a story, or even of a sentence, and branch off 



INSANITY. 247 

into the subject of her hallucination. On the return of 
her reason, she would resume the conversation in which 
she was engaged at the time of the attack, beginning 
exactly where she had left off, though she had. never 
alluded to it during the delirium; and, on the next 
attack of delirium, she would resume the subject of 
hallucination, with which she had been occupied at the 
conclusion of the former paroxysm. In some cases there 
is a total loss of the impression of time respecting the 
period occupied by the attack, which on the partial 
recovery of the patient shows itself by singular fancies. 
A man mentioned by Haslam, maintained that he had 
seen the seed sown in a particular field, and on passing 
it again three or four days after, saw the reapers at work 
cutting down the corn. The interval, of which he had 
thus lost entirely the impression, had been spent in a 
state of furious insanity; — from this he had in so far 
recovered, as, by a mere act of observation and memory, 
to form this notion, but not so far as, by an act of com- 
parison or judgment, to perceive its absurdity. 

Among the most singular phenomena connected with 
insanity, we must reckon those cases in which the hallu- 
cination is confined to a single point, while, on every 
other subject, the patient speaks and acts like a rational 
man; and he often shows the most astonishing power of 
avoiding the subject of his disordered impression, when 
circumstances make it advisable for him to do so. A 
man mentioned by Pinel, who had been for some time 
confined in the Bicetre, was, on the visitation of a com- 
missary, ordered to be discharged as perfectly sane, after 
a long conversation in which he had conducted himself 
with the greatest propriety. The officer prepared the 
proces verbal for his discharge, and gave it him to put 
his name to it, when he subscribed himself Jesus Christ, 
and then indulged in all the reveries connected with that 
delusion. Lord Erskine gives a very remarkable history 
of a man, who indicted Dr. Monro for confining him 



248 REASON. 

without cause in a madhouse. He underwent the most 
rigid examination by the counsel of the defendant, with- 
out discovering any appearance of insanity, until a gen- 
tleman came into court, who desired a question to be put 
to him respecting a princess with whom he had corres- 
ponded in cherry-juice. He immediately talked about 
the princess in the most insane manner, and the cause 
was at an end. But, this having taken place in West- 
minster, he commenced another action in the city of 
London, and, on this occasion, no effort could induce 
him to expose his insanity ; so that the cause was dis- 
missed only by bringing against him the evidence taken 
at Westminster. On another occasion, Lord Erskine 
examined a gentleman, who had indicted his brother for 
confining him as a maniac, and the examination had 
gone on for great part of a day, without discovering any 
trace of insanity. Dr. Sims then came into court, and 
informed the counsel that the gentleman considered 
himself as the Saviour of the world. A single observa- 
tion addressed to him in this character showed his insa- 
nity, and put an end to the cause. Many similar cases 
are on record. Several years ago a gentleman in Edin- 
burgh, who was brought before a jury to be cognosced, 
defeated every attempt of the opposite counsel to dis- 
cover any trace of insanity, until a gentleman came into 
court, who ought to have been present at the beginning 
of the case, but had been accidentally detained. He 
immediately addressed the patient by asking him what 
were his latest accounts from the planet Satura, and 
speedily elicited ample proofs of insanity. 

Of the nature and cause of that remarkable condition 
of the mental faculties which gives rise to the pheno- 
mena of insanity, we know nothing. We can only ob- 
serve the facts, and endeavour to trace among them 
some general principle of connexion ; and even in this 
there is great difficulty, chiefly from the want of obser- 



INSANITY. 249 

rations particularly directed to this object. There would 
be much interesting subject of inquiry, in tracing the 
origin of the particular chain of ideas which occur in 
individual cases of insanity ; and likewise the manner in 
which similar impressions are modified in different cases, 
either by circumstances in the natural disposition of the 
individual, or by the state of his bodily functions at the 
time. From what has been observed, it seems probable 
that, in both those respects, there is preserved a remark- 
able analogy to dreaming. The particular hallucinations 
may be chiefly referred to the following heads : — 

I. Propensities of character, which had been kept 
under restraint by reason or by external circumstances, 
and old habits which had been subdued or restrained, 
developing themselves without control, and leading the 
mind into trains of fancies arising out of them. Thus 
a man of an aspiring ambitious character may imagine 
himself a king or great personage ; while, in a man of a 
timid, suspicious disposition, the mind may fix upon 
some supposed injury, or loss either of property or 
reputation. 

II. Old associations recalled into the mind, and mixed 
up perhaps with more recent occurrences, in the same 
manner as we often see in dreaming. A lady, men- 
tioned by Dr. Gooch, who became insane in consequence 
of an alarm from a house on fire in her neighbourhood, 
imagined that she was the Virgin Mary, and had a 
luminous haio round her head. 

III. Visions of the imagination which have formerly 
been indulged in, of that kind which we call waking 
dreams, or castle-building, recurring to the mind in this 
condition, and now believed to have a real existence. I 
have been able to trace this source of the hallucination. 
In one case, for example, it turned upon an office to which 



250 REASON. 

the individual imagined he had been appointed ; and it 
was impossible to persuade him to the contrary, or even 
that the office was not vacant. He afterwards acknow- 
ledged that his fancy had at various times been fixed 
upon that appointment, though there were no circum- 
stances that warranted him in entertaining any expecta- 
tion of it. In a man mentioned by Dr. Morison, the 
hallucination turned upon circumstances which had been 
mentioned when his fortune was told by a gipsy. 

IV. Bodily feelings giving rise to trains of associa- 
tions, in the same extravagant manner as in dreaming. 
A man, mentioned by Dr. Rush, imagined that he had a 
Cafrre in his stomach, who had got into it at the Cape of 
Good Hope, and had occasioned him a constant uneasi- 
ness ever since. In such a case, it is probable that there 
had been some fixed or frequent uneasy feeling at the 
stomach, and that, about the commencement of his 
complaint, he had been strongly impressed by some 
transaction in which a Caffre was concerned. 

V. There seems reason to believe that the hallucina- 
tions of the insane are often influenced by a certain sense 
of the new and singular state in which their mental 
powers really are, and a certain feeling, though confused 
and ill-defined, of the loss of that power over their 
mental processes, which they possessed when in health. 
To a feeling of this kind I am disposed to refer the im- 
pression, so common among the insane, of being under 
the influence of some supernatural power. They some- 
times represent it as the working of an evil spirit, and 
sometimes as witchcraft. Very often they describe it as 
a mysterious and undue influence which some individual 
has obtained over them ; and this influence they often 
represent as being carried on by means of electricity, 
galvanism, or magnetism. This impression being once 
established of a mysterious agency, or a mysterious change 



INSANITY. 251 

in the state and feelings of the individual, various other 
incidental associations may be brought into connexion 
with it, according as particular circumstances have made 
a deep impression on the mind. A man mentioned by 
Pinel, who had become insane during the French Revo- 
lution, imagined that he had been guillotined,— that the 
judges had changed their mind after the sentence was 
executed, and had ordered his head to be put on again ; 
and that the persons intrusted with this duty had made 
a mistake, and put a wrong head upon him. Another 
individual, mentioned by Dr. Conolly, imagined that he 
had been hanged, and brought to life by means of gal- 
vanism; and that the whole of his life had not been 
restored to him. 

Out of the same undefined feeling, of mental processes 
very different from those of the healthy state, probably 
arises another common impression, namely, of intercourse 
with spiritual beings, visions, and revelations. The par- 
ticular character of these, perhaps, depends on some 
previous process of the mind, or strong propensity of the 
character ; and the notion of a supernatural revelation 
may proceed from a certain feeling of the new and pecu- 
liar manner in which the impression is fixed upon the 
mind. A priest mentioned by Pinel imagined that he 
had a commission from the Virgin Mary to murder a 
certain individual, who was accused of infidelity. It is 
probable that the patient, in this case, had been naturally 
of a violent and irascible disposition ; that he had come in 
contact with this person and had been annoyed and irri- 
tated by infidel sentiments uttered by him ; and that a 
strong feeling in regard to him had thus been excited in 
his mind, which, in his insane state, was formed into 
this vision 

When the mental impression is of a depressing cha- 
racter, that modification of the disease is produced which 
is called melancholia. It seems to differ from mania 



252 REASON. 

merely in the subject of hallucination, and accordingly 
we find the two modifications pass into each other, — the 
same patient being, at one time, in a state of melancholic 
depression, and at another, of maniacal excitement. It 
is, however, more common for the melancholic to con- 
tinue in the state of depression, and generally in refer- 
ence to one subject ; and the difference between him and 
the exalted maniac does not appear to depend upon the 
occasional cause. For we sometimes find persons, who 
have become deranged in connexion with overwhelming 
calamities, show no depression, nor even a recollection 
of their distresses, but the highest state of exalted 
mania. The difference appears to depend chiefly upon 
constitutional peculiarities of character. 

The most striking peculiarity of melancholia is the 
prevailing propensity to suicide ; and there are facts 
connected with this subject, which remarkably illustrate 
what may be called the philosophy of insanity. When 
the melancholic hallucination has fully taken possession 
of the mind, it becomes the sole object of attention, 
without the power of varying the impression, or of 
directing the thoughts to any facts or considerations 
calculated to remove or palliate it. The evil seems 
overwhelming and irremediable, admitting neither of 
palliation, consolation, nor hope. For the process of 
mind calculated to diminish such an impression, or even 
to produce the hope of a palliation of the evil, is precisely 
that exercise of mind which, in this singular condition, 
is lost or suspended ; that is, a power of changing the 
subject of thought, of transferring the attention to other 
facts and considerations, and of comparing the mental 
impression w^ith these, and with the actual state of ex- 
ternal things. Under such a conviction of overwhelming 
and hopeless misery, the feeling naturally arises of life 
being a burden, and this is succeeded by a determination 
to quit it. When such an association has once been 
formed, it also fixes itself upon the mind, and fails to be 



INSANITY. 253 

corrected by those considerations which ought to remove 
it. That it is in this manner the impression arises, and 
not from any process analogous to the determination of 
a sound mind, appears, among other circumstances, from 
the singular manner in which it is often dissipated; 
namely, by the accidental production of some new im- 
pression, not calculated, in any degree, to influence the 
subject of thought, but simply to give a momentary 
direction of the mind to some other feeling. Thus, a man 
mentioned by Pinel had left his house in the night, with 
the determined resolution of drowning himself, when he 
was attacked by robbers. He did his best to escape from 
them, and, having done so, returned home, the resolution 
of suicide being entirely dissipated. A woman, mentioned, 
I believe, by Dr. Burrows, had her resolution changed in 
the same manner, by something falling on her head, 
after she had gone out for a similar purpose. 

A very singular modification occurs in some of these 
cases. With the earnest desire of death, there is com- 
bined an impression of the criminality of suicide ; but 
this, instead of correcting the hallucination, only leads 
to another and most extraordinary mode of effecting the 
purpose ; — by committing murder, and so dying by the 
hand of justice. Several instances are on record, in 
which this remarkable mental process was distinctly 
traced and acknowledged ; and in which there was no 
mixture of malice against the individuals who were mur- 
dered. On the contrary, these were generally children ; 
and, in one of the cases, the maniac distinctly avowed 
his resolution to commit murder, with the view of dying 
by a sentence of law, and at the same time his determi- 
nation that his victim should be a child, — as he should 
thus avoid the additional guilt of sending a person out of 
the world in a state of unrepented sin. The mental 
process, in such a case, presents a most interesting sub- 
ject of reflection. It appears to be purely a process of 
association without the power of reasoning. I should 



254 REASON. 

suppose that there had been at a former period, during 
a comparatively healthy state of the mental faculties, a 
repeated contemplation of suicide which had been always 
checked by an immediate conviction of its dreadful crimi- 
nality. In this manner, a strong connexion had been 
formed, which, when the idea of suicide afterwards came 
into the mind, during the state of insanity, led to the 
impression of its heinousness, not by a process of rea- 
soning, but by simple association. The subsequent steps 
are the distorted reasonings of insanity, mixed with some 
previous impression of the safe condition of children 
dying in infancy. This explanation, I think, is strongly 
countenanced by the consideration, that, had the idea 
of the criminality of suicide been in any degree a process 
of reasoning, a corresponding conviction of the guilt of 
murder must have followed it. I find, however, one 
case which is at variance with this hypothesis. The 
reasoning of that unfortunate individual was, that if he 
committed murder and died by the hand of justice, there 
would be time for making his peace with the Almighty 
between the crime and his execution, which would not 
be the case if he should die by suicide. This was a 
species of reasoning, — but it was purely the reasoning 
of insanity. 

Attempts have been made to refer insanity to disease 
of bodily organs, but hitherto without much success. In 
some instances, we are able to trace a connexion of this 
kind ; but, in a large proportion, we can trace no bodily 
disease. On this subject, as well as various other points 
connected with the phenomena of insanity, extensive and 
careful observation will be required, before we shall be 
entitled to advance to any conclusions. In regard to 
what have been called the moral causes of insanity, also, 
I suspect there has been a good deal of fallacy, arising 
from considering as a moral cause, what was really a part 
of the disease. Thus, we find so many cases of insanity 
referred to erroneous views of religion, so many to love, 



INSANITY. 255 

so many to ambition, &c. But, perhaps it may be 
doubted -whether that which was, in these cases, con- 
sidered as the cause, was not rather, in many instances, 
a part of the hallucination. This, I think, applies in a 
peculiar manner to the important subject of religion, 
which, by a common but very loose mode of speaking, is 
often mentioned as a frequent cause of insanity. When 
there is a constitutional tendency to insanity, or to me- 
lancholy, one of its leading modifications, every subject 
is distorted to which the mind can be directed, and none 
more frequently or more remarkably than the great ques- 
tions of religious belief. But this is the effect, not the 
cause ; and the frequency of this kind of hallucination, 
and the various forms which it assumes, may be ascribed 
to the subject being one to which the minds of all men 
are so naturally directed in one degree or another, and 
of which no man living can entirely divest himself. Even 
when the mind does give way under a great moral cause, 
such as overwhelming misfortunes, we often find that 
the hallucination does not refer to them, but to some- 
thing entirely distinct: striking examples of this are 
mentioned by Pinel. 

Insanity is, in a large portion of cases, to be traced to 
hereditary predisposition; and this is often so strong, 
that no prominent moral cause is necessary for the pro- 
duction of the disease, and probably no moral treatment 
would have any effect in preventing it. We must how- 
ever suppose, that, where a tendency to insanity exists, 
there may be, in many cases, circumstances in mental 
habits or mental discipline, calculated either to favour 
or to counteract the tendency. Insanity frequently com- 
mences with a state in which particular impressions fix 
themselves upon the mind, in a manner entirely dispro- 
portioned to their true relations ; and in which these 
false impressions fail to be corrected by the judgment, 
comparing them with other impressions, or with external 
things. In so far as mental habits may be supposed to 



256 REASON. 

favour or promote such a condition, this may be likely to 
result from allowing the mind to wander away from the 
proper duties of life, or to luxuriate amid scenes of the 
imagination ; and permitting mental emotions, of what- 
ever kind, to be excited in a manner disproportioned to 
the true relations of the objects which give rise to them; 
— in short, from allowing the mind to ramble among ima- 
ginary events, or to be led away by slight and casual 
relations, instead of steadily exercising the judgment in 
the investigation of truth. We might refer to the same 
head, habits of distorting events, and of founding upon 
them conclusions which they do not warrant. These, 
and other propensities and habits of a similar kind, con- 
stitute what is called an ill-regulated mind. Opposed 
to it is that habit of cool and sound exercise of the un- 
derstanding, by which events are contemplated in their 
true relations and consequences, and mental emotions 
arise out of them such as they are really calculated to 
produce. Every one must be familiar with the difference 
which exists among different individuals, in this respect ; 
and even in the same individual at different times. We 
trace the influence of the principle in the impression 
which is made by events coming upon us suddenly and 
unexpectedly ; and the manner in which the emotion is 
gradually brought to its proper bearings, as the mind 
accommodates itself to the event, by contemplating it in 
its true relations. In such a mental process as this, we 
observe the most remarkable diversities among various 
individuals. In some, the mind rapidly contemplates 
the event in all its relations, and speedily arrives at the 
precise impression or emotion which it is in truth fitted 
to produce. In others, this is done more slowly, perhaps 
more imperfectly, and probably not without the aid of 
suggestions from other minds ; while, in some, the first 
impression is so strong and so permanent, and resists in 
such a manner those considerations which might remove 
or moderate it, that we find difficulty in drawing the 



INSANITY. 257 

line between it and that kind of false impression which 
constitutes the lower degree of insanity. Habits of 
mental application must also exert a great influence; 
and we certainly remark a striking difference between 
those who are accustomed merely to works of imagination 
and taste, and those whose minds have been rigidly 
exercised to habits of calm and severe inquiry. A fact 
is mentioned by Dr. Connolly, which, if it shall be con- 
firmed by farther observation, would lead to some most 
important reflections. He states that it appears from the 
registers of Bicetre, that maniacs of the more educated 
classes consist almost entirely of priests, artists, painters, 
sculptors, poets, and musicians ; while no instance, it is 
said, occurs of the disease in naturalists, physicians, 
geometricians, or chemists. 

The higher degrees of insanity are in general so dis- 
tinctly defined in their characters, as to leave no room 
for doubt in deciding upon the nature of the affection. 
But it is otherwise in regard to many of the lower modi- 
fications ; and great discretion is often required, in judg- 
ing whether the conduct of an individual, in particular 
instances, is to be considered as indicative of insanity. 
This arises from the principle, which must never -be lost 
sight of, that, in such cases, we are not to decide simply 
from the facts themselves, but by their relation to other 
circumstances, and to the previous habits and character 
of the individual. There are many peculiarities and 
eccentricities of character which do not constitute in- 
sanity : and the same peculiarities may afford reason for 
suspecting insanity in one person and not in another ; — 
namely, when in the former they have appeared sud- 
denly, and are much opposed to his previous uniform 
character ; while to the latter they have been long known 
to be habitual and natural. Thus, acts of thoughtless 
prodigality and extravagance may, in one person, be 
considered entirely in accordance with his uniform cha- 
racter ; while the same acts, committed by a person 
s 



258 REASON. 

formerly distinguished by sedate and prudent conduct, 
may give good ground for suspecting insanity, — and in 
fact constitute a form in which the affection very often 
appears. In ordinary cases of insanity, a man's conduct 
is to be tried by a comparison with the average of other 
men; but in many of the cases now referred to, he 
must be compared with his former self. 

Another caution is to be kept in mind, respecting the 
mental impressions of the individual in these slight or 
suspected cases of insanity ; — that an impression, which 
gives reason for suspecting insanity in one case, because 
we know it to be entirely unfounded and imaginary, may 
allow of no such conclusion in another, in which it has 
some reasonable or plausible foundation. Insane per- 
sons indeed often relate stories which hang together so 
plausibly and consistently, that we cannot say whether 
we are to consider them as indicative of insanity, until 
we have ascertained whether they have any foundation, 
or are entirely imaginary. In one instance which was 
referred to in the discussions respecting a late remarkable 
case, the principal fact alleged against the individual 
was, his having taken up a suspicion of the fidelity of his 
wife. JBut it turned out to be a very general opinion 
among his neighbours, that the impression was well 
founded. The same principle applies to the antipathies 
against intimate friends, which are often so remarkable 
in the insane. They may be of such a nature as de- 
cidedly to mark the hallucination of insanity, — as when 
a person expresses a dislike to a child, formerly beloved, 
on the ground that he is not really his child, but an evil 
spirit which has assumed his form. This is clearly 
insanity; but if the antipathy be against a friend or 
relative, without any such reason assigned for it, we re- 
quire to keep in view the inquiry, whether the impression 
be the result of hallucination, or whether the relative 
has really given any ground for it. In all slight or 
doubtful cases, much discretion should be used in putting 



INSANITY PUNISHMENT OF THE INSANE. 259 

an individual under restraint, and still more in imme- 
diately subjecting him to confinement in an asylum for 
lunatics. But there is one modification in which all 
such delicacy must be dispensed with, — namely, in those 
melancholic cases which have shown any tendency to 
suicide. Whenever this propensity has appeared, no 
time is to be lost in taking the most effectual precau- 
tions; and the most painful consequences have very often 
resulted, in cases of this description, from misplaced 
delicacy and delay. 

The subject of hallucination, in insanity, we have 
seen, may be either entirely imaginary and groundless, 
or may be a real event viewed in false relations, and 
carried to false consequences. This view of the subject 
bears upon an important practical point which has been 
much agitated, — the liability of maniacs to punishment ; 
and which has been ably and ingeniously argued by Lord 
Erskine in his defence of Hatfield, who fired at his 
Majesty, King George III. The principle contended for 
by this eminent person is, that when a maniac commits 
a crime under the influence of an impression which is 
entirely visionary, and purely the hallucination of insa- 
nity, he is not the object of punishment ; but that, though 
he may have shown insanity in other things, he is liable 
to punishment, if the impression under which he acted was 
true, and the human passion arising out of it was directed 
to its proper object. He illustrates this principle by con- 
trasting the case of Hatfield with that of Lord Ferrers. 
Hatfield had taken a fancy that the end of the world was 
at hand, and that the death of his Majesty was in some 
way connected with important events which were about 
to take place. Lord Ferrers, after showing various indi- 
cations of insanity, murdered a man against whom he 
was known to harbour deep-rooted resentment, on 
account of real transactions, in which that individual 
had rendered himself obnoxious to him. The former, 
s 2 



Q60 REASON. 

therefore, is considered as an example of the pure hallu- 
cination of insanity ; the latter as one of human passion, 
founded on real events, and directed to its proper object. 
Hatfield accordingly was acquitted ; but Lord Ferrers 
was convicted of murder, and executed. The contrast 
between the two cases is sufficiently striking ; but it may 
be questioned whether it will bear all that Lord Erskine 
has founded upon it. There can be no doubt of the first 
of his propositions, that a person acting under the pure 
hallucination of insanity, in regard to impressions which 
are entirely unfounded, is not the object of punishment. 
But, the converse does not seem to follow ; namely, that 
the man becomes an object of punishment, merely be- 
cause the impression was founded in fact, and because 
there was a human passion directed to its proper object. 
For it is among the characters of insanity, not only to 
call up impressions which are entirely visionary, but also 
to distort and exaggerate those which are true, and to 
carry them to consequences which they do not warrant 
in the estimation of a sound mind. A person, for in- 
stance, who has suffered a loss in business which does 
not affect his circumstances in any important degree, may 
imagine, under the influence of hallucination, that he 
is a ruined man, and that his family is reduced to beg- 
gary. Now, were a wealthy man, under the influence of 
such hallucination, to commit an outrage on a person 
who had defrauded him of a trifling sum, the case would 
afford the character mentioned by Lord Erskine, — human 
passion founded upon real events, and directed to its 
proper object ; but no one, probably, would doubt for a 
moment, that the process was as much the result of in- 
sanity, as if the impression had been entirely visionary. 
In this hypothetical case, indeed, the injury, though real, 
is slight ; but it does not appear that the principle is 
necessarily affected by the injury being great, or more in 
relation to the result which it leads to according to 
the usual course of human passion. It would appear 



INSANITY MORAL TREATMENT. 261 

probable, therefore, that, in deciding a doubtful case, a 
jury ought to be guided, not merely by the circumstances 
of the case itself, but by the evidence of insanity in other 
things. This, accordingly, appears to have been the 
rule on which a jury acted in another important case 
mentioned by Lord Erskine, in which an unfortunate 
female, under the influence of insanity, murdered a man 
who had seduced and deserted her. Here was a real 
injury of the highest description, and human passion 
founded upon it and directed to its proper object; but 
the jury, on proof of derangement in other things, 
acquitted the prisoner, who, accordingly, soon passed 
into a state of "undoubted and deplorable insanity." In 
the case of Lord Ferrers, also, it would appear that the 
decision proceeded, not so much upon the principle of 
human passion directed to its proper object, as upon an 
impression that his lordship's previous conduct had been 
indicative of uncontrolled violence of temper, rather than 
actual insanity. 

Some of the points which have been briefly alluded 
to, seem to bear on the practical part of this important 
subject, — the intellectual and moral treatment of in- 
sanity. Without entering on any lengthened discussion, 
some leading principles may be referred to the following 
heads : — 

I. It will be generally admitted, that every attempt 
to reason with a maniac is not only fruitless, but rather 
tends to fix more deeply his erroneous impression. An 
important rule, in the management of the insane, will 
therefore be, to avoid every allusion to the subject of 
their hallucination, to remove from them everything cal- 
culated by association to lead to it, and to separate them 
from scenes and persons likely to recall or keep up the 
erroneous impression. Hence, probably, in a great 
measure, arises the remarkable benefit of removing the 



262 REASON. 

insane from their usual residence, friends, and attendants, 
and placing them in new scenes, and entirely under the 
care of strangers. The actual effect of this measure is 
familiar to every one, who is in any degree conversant 
with the management of the insane. That the measure 
may have its full effect, it appears to be of importance 
that the patient should not, for a considerable time, be 
visited by any friend or acquaintance, but should be 
separated from everything connected with his late erro- 
neous associations. The danger also is well known 
which attends premature return to home and common 
associates ; — immediate relapse having often followed 
this, in cases which had been going on for some time in 
the most favourable manner. 

II. Occupation. This is referable to two kinds, — 
bodily and mental. The higher states of mania, in 
general, admit of no occupation ; but, on the contrary, 
often require coercion. A degree below this may admit 
of bodily occupation, and, when this can be accomplished 
in such a manner as fully to occupy the attention and 
produce fatigue, there is reason to believe that much 
benefit may result from it. Dr. Gregory used to men- 
tion a farmer in the north of Scotland, who had acquired 
uncommon celebrity in the treatment of the insane ; and 
his method consisted chiefly in having them constantly 
employed in the most severe bodily labour. As soon, 
also, as the situation of the patient will admit of it, 
mental occupation must be considered as of the utmost 
importance. It should not consist merely of desultory 
employment or amusement, but should probably be 
regulated by two principles. 1. Occupations calculated 
to lead the mind gradually into a connected series of 
thought. When the mental condition of the patient is 
such as to make it practicable, nothing answers so well 
as a course of history* the leading events being distinctly 
written out in the form of a table with the dates. Thus 



INSANITY — MOEAL TKEATMENT. 963 

the attention is fixed in an easy and connected manner, 
— and, in cases which admit of such occupation being 
continued, the effect is often astonishing. 2. Endea- 
vouring to discover the patient's former habits, and 
favourite pursuits, at a period previous to the hallucina- 
tion, and unconnected with it; and using means for 
leading his attention to these. I have already alluded 
to the complete suspension of all former pursuits and 
attachments, which often takes place in insanity, and to 
a return of them as being frequently the most marked 
and satisfactory symptom of convalescence. This is, in 
such cases, to be considered as a sign, not a cause of the 
improvement ; but there seems every reason to believe, 
that the principle might be acted upon with advantage 
in the moral treatment of certain forms of insanity. On a 
similar principle, it is probable, that, in many cases, much 
benefit might result from mental management calculated 
to revive associations of a pleasing kind, in regard to 
circumstances anterior to the occurrence of the malady. 

III. Careful classification of the insane, so that the 
mild and peaceful melancholic may not be harassed by 
the ravings of the maniac. The importance of this is 
obvious ; but of still greater importance it will probably 
be, to watch the first dawnings of reason, and instantly 
to remove the patient from all associates by whom his 
mind might be again bewildered. The following case 
mentioned by Pinel is certainly an extreme one, but 
much important reflection arises out of it in reference 
both to this and the preceding topic. A musician con- 
fined in the Bicetre, as one of the first symptoms of 
returning reason, made some slight allusion to his 
favourite instrument. It was immediately procured for 
him ; he occupied himself with music for several hours 
every day, and his convalescence seemed to be advancing 
rapidly. But he was then unfortunately allowed to come 
frequently into contact with a furious maniac, by meeting 



264 REASON. 

him in the gardens. The musician's mind was unhinged ; 
his violin was destroyed ; and he fell back into a state of 
insanity, which was considered as confirmed and hopeless. 

These observations contain only a very slight and im- 
perfect view of a subject of intense interest. The mental 
management of the insane seems to deserve a much 
greater degree of attention than has hitherto been 
devoted to it ; — and it appears to open a field for intel- 
lectual experiment, which promises most interesting and 
important results. There is one such experiment, the 
effect of which I have contemplated with much interest, 
namely, the influence produced upon the insane by Divine 
service. I have been informed by Dr. Yellowly, that 
in the asylum of Norwich the influence of this has been 
such, that, on seeing the patients retiring from service, 
a stranger could scarcely detect in one of them any 
appearance of insanity ; and that even when one has 
manifested, during service, any degree of restlessness or 
excitement, he has been instantly checked by the other 
patients near him. This interesting fact shows what 
may be done ; and I have no doubt that, when the intel- 
lectual and moral management of the insane shall be 
prosecuted with the attention which is due to it, prin- 
ciples will be developed of much practical interest on this 
important subject. There is another object of great 
importance to which a careful intellectual management 
appears to be applicable ; I mean the prevention of 
insanity in those in whom there exists the hereditary pre- 
disposition to it. I have no doubt that in this respect 
much might be done by careful and appropriate mental 
culture, commenced in early life ; and that irremediable 
injury often arises from the want of it. There is every 
reason to believe that, in such cases, the tendency is 
greatly promoted by an ill-regulated state of mind, and 
that in many instances it might be prevented by a sound 
mental discipline. 



INSANITY MORAL TREATMENT. 265 

Cases of decided insanity in general admit of little 
mental treatment, until the force of the disease has been 
broken in some considerable degree. But, among the 
numerous modifications which come under the view of 
the physician, there are various forms in which, by judi- 
cious management, a great deal is to be accomplished. 
Some of these affections are of a temporary nature, and 
have so little influence on a man's general conduct in life, 
that they are perhaps not known beyond his own family, or 
confidential friends. In some of these cases, the individual 
is sensible of the singular change which has taken place 
in the state of his mental powers, and laments the 
distortion of his feelings and affections. He complains, 
perhaps, that he has lost his usual interest in his family, 
and his usual affection for them ; and that he seems to 
be deprived of every feeling of which he was formerly 
susceptible. The truth is, that the mind has become so 
occupied by the erroneous impression, as to be inac- 
cessible to any other, and incapable of applying to any 
pursuit, or following out a train of thought. 

A most interesting affection of this class often comes 
under the observation of the physician, consisting of deep 
but erroneous views of religion, — generally accompanied 
with disturbed sleep, and considerable derangement of 
the system, and producing a state of mind closely border- 
ing upon insanity. It occurs most commonly in young 
persons of acute and susceptible feelings, and requires 
the most delicate and cautious management. Two modes 
of treatment are frequently adopted in regard to it, both 
equally erroneous. The one consists in hurrying the 
individual into the distraction of company, or a rapid 
journey ; the other, in urging religious discussions, and 
books of profound divinity. Both are equally injudicious, 
especially the latter; for every attempt to discuss the 
important subject, to which the distorted impression 
refers, only serves to fix the hallucination more deeply. 
The mode of treatment which I have found most 



266 EEASON. 

beneficial, consists of regular exe.icise, with attention to 
the general health ; and in enforcing a course of reading 
of a nature likely to fix the mind, and carry it forward in 
a connected -train. Light reading or mere amusement 
will not answer the purpose. A regular course of history, 
as formerly mentioned, appears to succeed best, and 
fixing the attention by writing out the dates and leading 
events in the form of a table. When the mind has been 
thus gradually exercised for some time, in a connected 
train of thought, it is often astonishing to observe how 
it will return to the subject which had entirely over- 
powered it, with a complete dissipation of former erro- 
neous impressions. A frequent complaint at the com- 
mencement of such an exercise is, that the person finds it 
impossible to fix the attention, or to recollect the subject 
of even a few sentences : this is part of the disease, and, 
by perseverance, gradually disappears. This experiment 
I have had occasion to make many times, and it has always 
appeared to me one of extreme interest. I do not say that 
it has uniformly succeeded, for the affection frequently 
passes into confirmed insanity ; but it has succeeded in 
a sufficient number of instances to give every encourage- 
ment for a careful repetition of it. The same observa- 
tions, and the same mode of treatment, apply to the 
other forms of partial hallucination. The plan is, of 
course, to be assisted by regular exercise, and attention 
to the general health, which is usually much impaired. 
The affections are particularly connected, in a very inti- 
mate manner, with a disordered state of the stomach and 
bowels, and with derangements in the female constitution. 
Means adapted to these become, therefore, an essential 
part of the management. 

There has been considerable discussion respecting the 
distinction between insanity and idiocy. < It has been 
said, that the insane reason justly on false premises ; 
and that idiots reason falsely on sound premises. This 



INSANITY IDIOCY. 267 

does not seem to be well founded. It would appear, that 
a maniac may reason either upon false or true premises ; 
but that, in either case, his reasoning is influenced by 
distorted views of the relations of things. The idiot, on 
the other hand, does not reason at all ; that is, though 
he may remember the facts, he does not trace their 
relations. Idiocy appears to consist, in a greater or less 
degree, in a simply impaired or weakened state of the 
mental powers ; but this is not insanity. On the con- 
trary, we have seen that, in the insane, certain mental 
powers may be in the highest state of activity — the 
memory recalling things long gone by, — the imagination 
forming brilliant associations, — every faculty in the 
highest activity, except the power of tracing correct 
relations. I have already referred to a gentleman men- 
tioned by Pinel, who possessed, during the paroxysm, 
a brilliancy of conception and a readiness of memory 
which were not natural to him. Another, mentioned by 
the same writer, who was infatuated with the chimera of 
perpetual motion, constructed pieces of mechanism which 
were^ the result of the most profound combinations, at 
the time when he was so mad that he believed his head 
to have been changed. A female mentioned, I believe, 
by Rush, sang with great beauty and sweetness, which 
she could not do when she was sane ; and a musician 
played, when insane, much better than when he was well. 
In that remarkable obliteration of the mental faculties, 
on the other hand, which we call idiocy, fatuity, or 
dementia, there is none of the distortion of insanity. It 
is a simple torpor of the faculties, in the higher degrees 
amounting to total insensibility to every impression; 
and some remarkable facts are connected with the man- 
ner in which it arises without bodily disease. A man 
mentioned by Dr. Rush, was so violently affected by some 
losses in trade, that he was deprived almost instantly of 
all his mental faculties. He did not take notice of any- 
thing, not even expressing a desire for food, but merely 



268 KEASON. 

taking it when it was put into his mouth. A servant 
dressed him in the morning, and conducted him to a 
seat in his parlour, where he remained the whole day, 
with his body bent forward, and his eyes fixed on the 
floor. In this state he continued nearly five years, and 
then recovered completely and rather suddenly. The 
account which he afterwards gave of his condition during 
this period was, that his mind was entirely lost; and 
that it was only about two months before his final recovery, 
that he began to have sensations and thoughts of any 
kind. These at first served only to convey fears and 
apprehensions, especially in the night time. Of perfect 
idiocy produced in the same manner by a moral cause, 
an affecting example is given by Pinel. Two young men, 
brothers, were carried off by the conscription, and, in the 
first action in which they were engaged, one of them was 
shot dead by the side of the other. The survivor was 
instantly struck with perfect idiocy. He was taken 
home to his father's house, where another brother was so 
affected by the sight of him, that he was seized in the 
same manner ; and in this state of perfect idiocy, they 
were both received into the Bicetre. For the production 
of such an extraordinary result, it is not necessary that 
the mental impression should be of a painful description. 
Pinel mentions an engineer, who, on receiving a flattering 
letter from Robespierre respecting an improvement he 
had proposed in the construction of cannon, was struck 
motionless on the spot, and soon after conveyed to the 
Bicetre in a state of complete idiocy. I have formerly 
referred to various examples of this condition supervening 
on bodily disease. In some of them, the affection was 
permanent ; in others, it was entirely recovered from. 

The most striking illustration of the various shades of 
idiocy, is derived from the modifications of intellectual 
condition observed in the Cretins of the Vallais. These 
singular beings are usually divided into three classes, 
which receive the names of cretins, semi-cretins, and 



idiocy. 269 

cretins of the third degree. The first of these classes, 
or perfect cretins, are, in point of intellect, scarcely 
removed above mere animal life. Many of them cannot 
speak, and are only so far sensible of the common calls 
of nature, as to go, when excited by hunger, to places 
where they have been accustomed to receive their food. 
The rest of their time is spent, either in basking in the 
sun, or sitting by the fire, without any trace of intelligence. 
The next class, or semi-cretins, show a higher degree of 
intelligence ; they remember common events, understand 
what is said to them, and express themselves in an intel- 
ligible manner on the most common subjects. They are 
taught to repeat prayers, but scarcely appear to annex 
any meaning to the words which they employ ; and they 
cannot be taught to read or write, or even to number 
their fingers. The cretins of the third degree learn to 
read and write, though with very little understanding of 
what they read, except on the most common topics. But 
they are acutely alive to their own interest, and extremely 
litigious. They are without prudence or discretion in 
the direction of their affairs, and the regulation of their 
conduct; yet obstinate and unwilling to be advised. Their 
memory is good as to what they have seen or heard, and 
they learn to imitate what they have observed in various 
arts, as machinery, painting, sculpture, and architecture ; 
but it is mere imitation without invention. Some of them 
learn music in the same manner ; and others attempt 
poetry of the lowest kind, distinguished by mere rhyme. 
It is said that none of them can be taught arithmetic, 
but I do not know whether this has been ascertained to 
be invariably true ; — there is no doubt that it is a very 
general peculiarity. 

The imbecile in other situations show characters very 
analogous to these. Their memory is often remarkably 
retentive ; but it appears to be merely a power of re- 
taining facts or words in the order and connection in 
which they have been presented to them, without the 



270 REASON. 

capacity of tracing relations, and forming new associations. 
In this manner, they sometimes acquire languages, and 
even procure a name for a kind of scholarship ; and they 
learn to imitate in various arts, but without invention. 
The deficiency appears to be in the powers of abstracting, 
recombining, and tracing relations ; consequently they 
are deficient in judgment, for which these processes are 
necessary. The maniac, on the other hand, seizes re- 
lations acutely, rapidly, and often ingeniously, — but not 
soundly. They are only incidental relations, to which 
he is led by some train of association existing in his own 
mind ; but they occupy his attention in such a manner, 
that he does not admit the consideration of other rela- 
tions, or compare them with those which have fixed 
themselves upon his mind. 

The states of idiocy and insanity, therefore, are clearly 
distinguished in the more complete examples of both ; 
but many instances occur in which they pass into each 
other, and where it is difficult to say to which of the 
affections the case is to be referred. I believe they may 
also be, to a certain extent, combined; or that there 
may be a certain diminution of the mental powers exist- 
ing along with that distortion which constitutes insanity. 
They likewise alternate with one another, — maniacal 
paroxysms often leaving the patient, in the intervals, in 
a state of idiocy. A very interesting modification of 
another kind is mentioned by Pinel. Five young men 
were received into the Bicetre, whose intellectual facul- 
ties appeared to be really obliterated; and they con- 
tinued in this state for periods of from three to upwards 
of twelve months. They were then seized with paroxysms 
of considerable violence, which continued from fifteen to 
twenty-five days, after which they all entirely recovered. 

Idiocy can seldom be the subject either of medical or 
moral treatment ; but the peculiar characters of it often 
become the object of attention in courts of law, in re- 
lation to the competency of imbecile persons to manage 



IDIOCY. 271 

their own affairs; and much difficulty often occurs in 
tracing the line between competency and incompetency. 
Several years ago a case occurred in Edinburgh, which 
excited much discussion, and shows, in a striking manner, 
some of the peculiarities of this condition of the mental 
faculties. — A gentleman of considerable property having 
died intestate, his heir-at-law was a younger brother 
who had always been reckoned very deficient in intellect ; 
and consequently, his relatives now brought an action 
into the Court of Session, for the purpose of finding him 
incompetent, and obtaining the authority of the Court 
for putting him under trustees. In the investigation of 
this case, various respectable persons deposed, that they 
had long known the individual, and considered him as 
decidedly imbecile in his understanding, and incapable 
of managing his affairs. On the other hand, most re- 
spectable evidence was produced, that he had been, when 
at school, an excellent scholar in the languages, and had 
repeatedly acted as a private tutor to boys ; — that he 
was remarkably attentive to his own interest, and very 
strict in making a bargain ; that he had been proposed 
as a candidate for holy orders, and, on his first examina- 
tion in the languages, had acquitted himself well ; but 
that, in the subsequent trials, in which the candidate 
is required to deliver a discourse, he had been found 
incompetent. The Court of Session, after long pleadings, 
decided that this individual was incapable of managing 
his affairs. The case was then appealed to the House 
of Lords, where, after farther protracted proceedings, this 
decision was affirmed. I was well acquainted with this 
person, and was decidedly of opinion that he was imbecile 
in his intellect. At my suggestion the following experi- 
ment was made in the course of the investigation. A 
small sum of money was given him, with directions to 
spend it, and present an account of his disbursement, 
with the addition of the various articles. He soon got 
rid of the money, but was found totally incapable of this 



272 REASON. 

very simple process of arithmetic, though the sum did 
not exceed a few shillings. This individual, then, it 
would appear, possessed the simple state of memory, 
which enabled him to acquire languages ; but was defi- 
cient in the capacity of combining, reflecting, or com- 
paring. His total inability to perform the most simple 
process of arithmetic was a prominent character in the 
case, analogous to what I have already stated in regard 
to the Cretins. In doubtful cases of the kind, I think 
this may be employed as a negative test, with advantage ; 
for it probably will not be doubted, that a person, who is 
incapable of such a process, is incompetent to manage 
his affairs. 

I was some years ago consulted, and examined before 
a jury, respecting another young gentleman, the chief 
peculiarity of whose mental condition was, a total want of 
the power of tracing relations both as to time and 
numbers. He was about twenty-six years of age, of a 
respectable and wealthy family, and had been educated 
with every care. He had made considerable proficiency 
in the languages ; his memory was good, especially for 
dates, and he had a considerable turn for music. His 
deficiency was shown by such examples as the following. 
I laid before him a half-sovereign, a half-crown, and a 
few shillings, but he could not, after repeated attempts, 
tell the amount. He was shown a very common silver 
watch, and a handsome gold watch, and being asked 
their value, he answered correctly, about three or four 
pounds for the one, and forty guineas for the other. 
Being then asked, if they were to be exchanged, how 
much money the owner of the gold watch would have to 
receive in addition to the silver watch, he said about 
three pounds, and could not be brought to give a more 
correct answer. He told his age correctly, and the year 
in which he was born, but if asked how many years 
there are between 1810 and ]836 he could not give a 
correct answer. He showed various extravagancies in 



idiocy. 273 

bis notions respecting many of the ordinary affairs of 
life, but he was careful of his money, and in his ordinary 
conduct was gentle and amiable. From the facts which 
I have stated, the jury found him incompetent, and gave 
authority for placing him under trustees. 

It is a singular fact, that the imbecile are, in general, 
extremely attentive to their own interest, and perhaps 
most commonly cautious in their proceedings. Ruinous 
extravagance, absurd schemes, and Quixotic ideas of 
liberality and magnificence, are more allied to insanity : 
— the former may become the dupes of others, but it 
is the latter who are most likely to involve and ruin 
themselves. 

Before leaving the subject of Insanity, there is a point 
of great interest, which may be briefly referred to. It 
bears, in a very striking manner, upon what may be 
called the pathology of the mental powers, — but I 
presume not to touch upon it, except in the slightest 
manner. In the language of common life we sometimes 
speak of a moral insanity, in which a man rushes head- 
long through a course of vice and crime, regardless of 
every moral restraint, of every social tie, and of all con- 
sequences, whether more immediate or future. Yet, if 
we take the most melancholy instance of this kind that 
can be furnished by the history of human depravity, the 
individual may still be recognised, in regard to all phy- 
sical relations, as a man of a sound mind ; and he may 
be as well qualified as other men, for the details of busi- 
ness, or the investigations of science. He is correct in 
his judgment of all the physical relations of things ; but 
in regard to their moral relations, every correct feeling 
appears to be obliterated. If a man, then, may thus 
be correct in his judgment of all physical relations, while 
he is lost to every moral relation, we have strong ground 
for believing, that there is in his constitution a power, 
distinct from reason, but which holds the same sway over 

T 



274 BEASON. 

his moral powers that reason does among his intellectual ; 
and that the influence of this power may be weakened or 
lost, while reason remains unimpaired. This is the 
moral principle, or the power of conscience. It has been 
supposed by some to be a modification of reason, but the 
considerations now referred to appear to favour the 
opinion of their being distinct. That this power should 
so completely lose its sway, while reason remains unim- 
paired, is a point in the moral constitution of man which 
it does not belong to the physician to investigate. The 
fact is unquestionable ; — the solution is to be sought for 
in the records of eternal truth. 



IV. SPECTKAL ILLUSIONS. 

The theory of spectral illusions is closely connected 
with that of the affections treated of in the preceding 
parts of this section ; and I shall conclude this subject 
with a very brief notice of some of the most authentic 
facts relating to them, under the following heads. 

I. False perceptions, or impressions made upon the 
senses only, in which the mind does not participate. Of 
this class there are several modifications, which have 
been referred to under the subject of perception ; — I add, 
in this place, the following additional examples. — A gen- 
tleman of high mental endowments, now upwards of 
eighty years of age, of a spare habit, and enjoying unin- 
terrupted health, has been, for nearly twelve years, liable 
to almost daily visitations from spectral figures. They, 
in general, present human countenances ; the head and 
upper parts of the body are distinctly defined ; — the lower 
parts are, for the most part, lost in a kind of cloud. The 
figures are various ; but he recognises the same counte- 
nances repeated from time to time, particularly, of late 
years, that of an elderly woman, with a peculiarly arch 



SPECTEAL ILLUSIONS. 275 

and playful expression, and a dazzling brilliancy of eye, 
who seems just ready to speak to him. They appear 
also in various dresses, such as, — that of the age of 
Louis XIV., — 'the costume of ancient Eome, — that of 
the modern Turks and Greeks, hut more frequently of 
late, as in the case of the female now mentioned, in an 
old-fashioned Scottish plaid of tartan, drawn up and 
brought forward over the head, and then crossed below 
the chin, as the plaid was worn by aged women in his 
younger days. He can seldom recognise, among the 
spectres, any figure or countenance which he remembers 
to have seen; but his own face has occasionally been 
presented to him, gradually undergoing the change from 
youth to manhood, and from manhood to old age. The 
figures appear at various times of the day, both night 
and morning ; they continue before him for some time, 
and he sees them almost equally well with his eyes open 
or shut, — in full daylight or in darkness. They are 
almost always of a pleasant character, and he seems to 
court their presence, as a source of amusement to him. 
He finds that he can banish them by drawing his hand 
across his eyes, or by shutting and opening his eyelids 
once or twice for a second or two, — but, on these occa- 
sions, they often appear again soon after. The figures 
are sometimes of the size of life, and sometimes in 
miniature ; but they are always defined and finished with 
the clearness and minuteness of the finest painting. 
They sometimes appear as if at a considerable distance, 
and gradually approach until they seem almost to touch 
his face : — at other times they float from side to side, or 
disappear in ascending or descending. In general the 
countenance of the spectre is presented to him, but on 
some occasions he sees the back of the head, both of 
males and females, exhibiting various fashions of wigs 
and head-dresses, — particularly the flowing, full-bottomed 
wig of a former age. At the time when these visions 
began to appear to him, he was in the habit of taking 
t 2 



276 REASON. 

little or no wine ; and this has been his common practice 
ever since ; but he finds that any addition to his usual 
quantity of wine, increases the number and vivacity of 
the visions. Of the effect of bodily illness he can give 
no account, except that once, when he had a cold and 
took a few drops of laudanum, the room appeared entirely, 
filled with peculiarly brilliant objects, gold and silver 
ornaments, and precious gems ; but the spectral visions 
were either not seen, or less distinct. 

I leave this remarkable case as it stood in former 
editions of this work. Soon after the publication of the 
fourth edition, this gentleman had an attack in his head, 
followed by confusion of thought, and loss of the use of 
the English language, as mentioned in page 177 of the 
present edition. After that time less was known of his 
spectral illusions; but it was ascertained that he was 
still liable to them. On one occasion, in particular, he 
saw the figure of his deceased wife, who seemed to beckon 
to him to follow her through a window ; and he actually 
made his way through the window, and fell on the lawn, 
a height of between seven and eight feet. He got up 
instantly, and followed the apparition into the garden 
and conservatory, which had been a frequent resort of 
his lady. He then met his overseer, told him what had 
occurred, and asked him whether he had not seen his 
wife. Upon being reminded that she was dead, he 
seemed to awake as from a dream, and returned to the 
house, and he never again was heard to allude to the 
occurrence. — This gentleman died in 1836, without any 
particular change in the circumstances now referred to, 
until a day or two before his death, when he fell into a 
state of stupor. 

Another gentleman, who died some time ago at the 
age of eighty, for several years before his death never 
sat down to table at his meals, without the impression of 
sitting down with a large party, dressed in the fashion of 
fifty years back. This gentleman was blind of one eye, 



SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS. 277 

and the sight of the other was very imperfect : on this 
account he wore over it a green shade ; and he had often 
before him the image of his own countenance, as if it 
were reflected from the inner surface of the shade. A 
very remarkable modification of this class of illusions has 
been communicated to me by Dr. Dewar of Stirling. It 
occurred in a lady who was quite blind, her eyes being 
also disorganized and sunk. She never walked out with- 
out seeing a little old woman with a red cloak and a 
crutch, who seemed to walk before her. She had no 
illusions when within doors. 

The case of a gentleman has been communicated to 
me, who has been all his life affected by the appearance 
of spectral figures. To such an extent does this pecu- 
liarity exist, that, if he meets a friend in the street, he 
cannot at first satisfy himself whether he really sees the 
individual or a spectral figure. By close attention he can 
remark a difference between them, in the outline of the 
real figure being more distinctly defined than that of the 
spectral ; but in general, he takes means for correcting 
his visual impression by touching the figure, or by lis- 
tening to the sound of his footsteps. He has also the 
power of calling up spectral figures at his will, by 
directing his attention steadily to the conception of his 
own mind ; and this may either consist of a figure or a 
scene which he has seen; or it may be a composition 
created by his imagination. But though he has the 
faculty of producing the illusion, he has no power of 
banishing it ; and when he has called up any particular 
spectral figure or scene, he never can say how long it 
may continue to haunt him. The gentleman is in the 
prime of life, of sound mind, in good health, and engaged 
in business. Another of his family has been affected in 
the same manner, though in a slighter degree. 

II. Real dreams, though the person was not at the 
time sensible of having slept, nor, consequently, of 



278 REASON. 

having dreamt. A person, under the influence of some 
strong mental impression, drops asleep for a few seconds, 
— perhaps without being sensible of it : some scene or 
person connected with the impression appears in a 
dream, and he starts up under the conviction that it 
was a spectral appearance. I have formerly proposed a 
conjecture, by which some of the most authentic stories 
of second sight may be referred to this principle ; others 
seem to be referable to the principle to be mentioned 
under the next head. Several cases mentioned by 
Dr. Hibbert are also clearly of the nature of dreams. The 
analogy between dreaming and spectral illusions is also 
beautifully illustrated, by an anecdote which I received 
from the gentleman to whom it occurred, an eminent 
medical friend. Having sat up late one evening, under 
considerable anxiety about one of his children who was 
ill, he fell asleep in his chair and had a frightful dream, 
in which the prominent figure was an immense baboon. 
He awoke with the fright, got up instantly, and walked 
to a table which was in the middle of the room. He 
was then quite awake, and quite conscious of the articles 
around him ; but, close by the wall, in the end of the 
apartment, he distinctly saw the baboon, making the 
same grimaces which he had seen in his dream ; and 
the spectre continued visible for about half a minute. 

III. Intense mental conceptions so strongly impressed 
upon the mind as, for the moment, to be believed to have 
a real existence. This takes place, when, along with 
the mental emotion, the individual is placed in circum- 
stances in which external impressions are very slight, — 
as solitude, faint light, and quiescence of body. It is a 
state closely bordering upon dreaming, though the vision 
occurs while the person is in the waking state. The fol- 
lowing example is mentioned by Dr. Hibbert. A gentle- 
man was told of the sudden death of an old and intimate 
friend, and was deeply affected by it. The impression, 



SPECTEAL ILLUSIONS. 279 

though partially banished by the business of the day, 
was renewed, from time to time, by conversing on the 
subject with his family and other friends. After supper, 
he went by himself to walk in a small court behind his 
house, which was bounded by extensive gardens. The 
sky was clear, and the night serene ; and no light was 
falling upon the court from any of the windows. As he 
walked down stairs, he was not thinking of anything 
connected with his deceased friend ; but when he had 
proceeded, at a slow pace, about half-way across the 
court, the figure of his friend started up before him in a 
most distinct manner at the opposite angle of the court. 
" He was not in his usual dress, but in a coat of a dif- 
ferent colour which he had for some months left off 
wearing. I could even remark a figured vest, which he 
had also worn about the same time; also a coloured 
silk handkerchief around his neck, in which I had used 
to see him in a morning; and my powers of vision 
seemed to become more keen as I gazed on the phantom 
before me." The narrator then mentions the indescrib- 
able feeling which shot through his frame ; but he soon 
recovered himself, and walked briskly up to the spot, 
keeping his eyes intently fixed upon the spectre. As 
he approached the spot, it vanished, not by sinking into 
the earth, but seeming to melt insensibly into air.* 

A similar example is related by a most intelligent 
writer in the Christian Observer for October, 1829. " An 
intimate friend of my early years, and most happy in his 
domestic arrangements, lost his wife under the most 
painful circumstances, suddenly, just after she had appa- 
rently escaped from the dangers of an untoward confine- 
ment with her first child. A few weeks after this 
melancholy event, while travelling during the night on 
horseback, and in all probability thinking over his sor- 
rows, and contrasting his present cheerless prospects 

* Hibbert on Apparitions, p. 470, Second Edition. 



280 EEASON. 

with the joys which so lately gilded the hours of his 
happy home, the form of his lost relative appeared to he 
presented to him, at a little distance in advance. He 
stopped his horse, and contemplated the vision with 
great trepidation, till in a few seconds it vanished away. 
Within a few days of this appearance, while he was 
sitting in his solitary parlour late at night, reading by 
the light of a shaded taper, the door, he thought, 
opened, and the form of his deceased partner entered, 
assured him of her complete happiness, and enjoined 
him to follow her footsteps." This second appearance 
was evidently a dream ; the first is distinctly referable 
to the principles stated in the preceding observations. 

An interesting case, referable to this head, is described 
by Sir Walter Scott, in his work on Demonology and 
Witchcraft. " Not long after the death of a late illustri- 
ous poet, who had filled, while living, a great station in 
the eye of the public, a literary friend, to whom the 
deceased had been well known, was engaged, during the 
darkening twilight of an autumn evening, in perusing 
one of the publications which professed to detail the 
habits and opinions of the distinguished individual who 
was now no more. As the reader had enjoyed the inti- 
macy of the deceased to a considerable degree, he was 
deeply interested in the publication, which contained 
some particulars relating to himself and other friends. 
A visitor was sitting in the apartment, who was also 
engaged in reading. Their sitting-room opened into an 
entrance-hall, rather fantastically fitted up with articles 
of armour, skins of wild animals, and the like. It was 
when laying down his book, and passing into this hall, 
through which the moon was beginning to shine, that 
the individual of whom I speak saw, right before him, 
and in a standing posture, the exact representation of his 
departed friend, whose recollection had been so strongly 
brought to his imagination. He stopped for a single 
moment, so as to notice the wonderful accuracy with 



SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS. 281 

which fancy had impressed upon the bodily eye the 
peculiarities of dress and posture of the illustrious poet. 
Sensible, however, of the delusion, he felt no sentiment 
save that of wonder at the extraordinary accuracy of the 
resemblance, and stepped onwards towards the figure, 
which resolved itself, as he approached, into the various 
materials of which it was composed. These were merely 
a screen, occupied by great-coats, shawls, plaids, and 
such other articles as usually are found in a country 
entrance-hall." 

On this part of the subject, I shall only add the fol- 
lowing example, which I have received from Dr. Andrew 
Combe. A gentleman, a friend of his, had in his house 
a number of phrenological casts, among which was par- 
ticularly conspicuous a bust of Curran. A servant girl 
belonging to the family, after undergoing great fatigue, 
awoke early one morning, and beheld at the foot of her 
bed the apparition of Curran. He had the same pale 
and cadaverous aspect as in the bust, but he was now 
dressed in a sailor's jacket, and his face was decorated 
with an immense pair of whiskers. In a state of extreme 
terror she awoke her fellow-servant, and asked whether 
she did not see the spectre. She, however, saw nothing, 
and endeavoured to rally her out of her alarm ; — but the 
other persisted in the reality of the apparition, which 
continued visible for several minutes. The gentleman, 
it appears, at that time kept a pleasure yacht, the seamen 
belonging to which were frequently in the house. This, 
perhaps, was the origin of the sailors dress in which the 
spectre appeared ; — and the immense whiskers had also 
probably been borrowed from one of these occasional 
visitors. 

To the same principle we are probably to refer the 
stories of the apparitions of murdered persons haunting 
the murderer, until he was driven to give himself up to 
justice : many examples of this kind are on record. 
Similar effects have resulted in other situations from 



282 KEASON. 

intense mental excitement. A gentleman mentioned by 
Dr. Connolly, when in great danger of being wrecked in 
a boat on the Eddystone rocks, said he actually saw his 
family at the moment. In similar circumstances of ex- 
treme and immediate danger, others have described the 
history of their past lives being represented to them in 
such a vivid manner, that at a single glance the whole 
was before them, without the power of banishing the 
impression. Of this I have received a very remarkable 
example, in the case of a naval officer, who fell overboard 
and w T as taken up in a state of suspended animation, 
from which he was recovered by the usual means. In 
giving an account of his feelings, he stated his only dis- 
tinct recollection to be, — that, in the act of drowning, as 
it might correctly be called, the whole events of his past 
life were represented to him at the instant in the most 
clear and striking manner. 

To this head we are also to refer some of the stories 
of second sight, — namely, by supposing that they con- 
sisted of spectral illusions arising out of strong mental 
impressions, and by some natural coincidence fulfilled in 
the same manner as we have seen in regard to dreams. 
Many of these anecdotes are evidently embellished and 
exaggerated ; but the following I have received from a 
most respectable clergyman, as being to his personal 
knowledge strictly true. In one of the Western Isles 
of Scotland, a congregation was assembled on a Sunday 
morning, and in immediate expectation of the appearance 
of the clergyman, when a man started up, uttered a 
scream, and stood looking to the pulpit, with a counte- 
nance expressive of terror. As soon as he could be 
prevailed on to speak, he exclaimed, " Do you not see 
the minister in the pulpit, dressed in a shroud ! " — A 
few minutes after this occurrence, the clergyman appeared 
in his place, and conducted the service, apparently in his 
usual health ; but in a day or two after was taken ill, and 
died before the following Sunday. 



SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS. 283 

The effect of opium is well known in giving an im- 
pression of reality to the visions of conception or imagi- 
nation : several striking examples of this will be found 
in the Confessions of an Opium Eater. These are in 
general allied, or actually amount, to the delusions of 
delirium, but they are sometimes entirely of a different 
nature. My respected friend, the late Dr. Gregory, was 
accustomed to relate a remarkable instance which occurred 
to himself. He had gone to the north country by sea, 
to visit a lady, a near relation, in whom he felt deeply 
interested, and who was in an advanced state of con- 
sumption. In returning from the visit, he had taken a 
moderate dose of laudanum, with the view of preventing 
sea-sickness, and was lying on a couch in the cabin, when 
the figure of the lady appeared before him in so distinct 
a manner that her actual presence could not have been 
more vivid. He was quite awake, and fully sensible that 
it was a phantasm produced by the opiate, along with his 
intense mental feeling, but he was unable by any effort 
to banish the vision. 

Some time ago I attended a gentleman, affected with 
a painful local disease, requiring the use of large opiates, 
but which often failed in producing sleep. In one watch- 
ful night, there passed before him a long and regular 
exhibition of characters and transactions, connected with 
certain occurrences which had been the subject of much 
conversation in Edinburgh some time before. The 
characters succeeded each other with all the regularity 
and vividness of a theatrical exhibition : he heard their 
conversation, and long speeches that were occasionally 
made, some of which were in rhyme ; and he distinctly 
remembered, and repeated next day, long passages 
from these poetical effusions. He was quite awake, 
and quite sensible that the whole was a phantasm ; and 
he remarked, that, when he opened his eyes, the vision 
vanished, but instantly re-appeared whenever he closed 
them. 



284 EEASON. 

IV. Erroneous impressions connected with bodily- 
disease, generally disease in the brain. The illusions, 
in these cases, arise in a manner strictly analogous to 
dreaming, and probably consist of former conceptions 
recalled into the mind, and believed for the time to have 
a real and present existence. The diseases, in connection 
with which they arise, are generally of an apoplectic or 
inflammatory character, — sometimes epileptic ; and they 
are very frequent in the affection called delirium tremens, 
which is produced by a continued use of intoxicating 
liquors. Dr. Gregory used to mention in his lectures a 
gentleman liable to epileptic fits, in whom the paroxysm 
was generally preceded by the appearance of an old 
woman in a red cloak, who seemed to come up to him, 
and strike him on the head with her crutch ; at that 
instant, he fell down in the fit. It is probable that 
there was in this case a sudden attack of headache con- 
nected with the accession of the paroxysm, and that this 
led to the vision in the same manner as bodily feelings 
give rise to dreams. One of the most singular cases on 
record, of spectral illusions referable to this class, is that 
of Nicolai, a bookseller in Berlin, as described by him- 
self, and quoted by Dr. Ferriar. By strong mental 
emotions, he seems to have been thrown into a state 
bordering upon mania ; and, while in this condition, was 
haunted constantly while awake, for several months, by 
figures of men, women, animals, and birds. A similar 
case is mentioned by Dr. Alderston ; * — a man, who kept 
a dram-shop, saw a soldier endeavouring to force himself 
into his house in a menacing manner ; and, in rushing 
forward to prevent him, he was astonished to find it a 
phantom. He had afterwards a succession of visions 
of persons long dead, and others who were living. This 
man was cured by bleeding and purgatives ; and the source 
of his first vision was traced to a quarrel which he had, 

* Edinburgh Medical Journal, vol. vi. 



SPECTEAL ILLUSIONS. 285 

some time before, with a drunken soldier. A gentleman 
from America, who is also mentioned by Dr. Alderston, 
was seized with severe headache, and complained of 
troublesome dreams; and, at the same time, had distinct 
visions of his wife and family, whom he had left in 
America. In the state of delirium tremens such visions 
are common, and assume a variety of forms. I have 
known a patient describe distinctly a dance of fairies, 
going on -m- the floor of the apartment, and give a most 
minute account of their figures and dresses. 

Similar phantasms occur in various forms, in febrile 
diseases. A lady whom I attended some years ago, on 
account of an inflammatory affection of the chest, awoke 
her husband one night, at the commencement of her 
disorder, and begged him to get up instantly. She said 
she had distinctly seen a man enter the apartment, pass 
the foot of her bed, and go into a closet which entered 
from the opposite side of the room. She was quite awake, 
and fully convinced of the reality of the appearance ; 
and, even after the closet was examined, it was found 
almost impossible to convince her that it was a delusion. 
There are numerous examples of this kind on record. 
The writer in the Christian Observer, lately referred to, 
mentions a lady, who, during a severe illness, repeatedly 
saw her father, who resided at the distance of many 
hundred miles, come to her bedside, and, withdrawing 
the curtain, address her in his usual voice and manner. 
A farmer, mentioned by the same writer, in returning 
from a market, was deeply affected by a most extraor- 
dinary brilliant light, which he thought he saw upon the 
road, and by an appearance, in the light, which he sup- 
posed to be our Saviour. He was greatly alarmed, and 
spurring his horse, galloped home ; remained agitated 
during the evening ; was seized with typhus fever, then 
prevailing in the neighbourhood, and died in about ten 
days. It was afterwards ascertained that on the morn- 
ing of the day of the supposed vision, before he left 



286 






home, he had complained of headache and langour ; and 
there can be no doubt that the spectral appearance -was 
connected with the commencement of the fever. — En- 
tirely analogous to this, but still more striking in its 
circumstances, is a case which I have received from an 
eminent medical friend ; and the subject of it was a near 
relation of his own, a lady about fifty years of age. On 
returning one evening from a party, she went into a dark 
room, to lay aside some part of her dress, when she saw 
distinctly before her the figure of Death, as a skeleton, 
with his arm uplifted and a dart in his hand. He in- 
stantly aimed a blow at her with the dart, which seemed 
to strike her on the left side. The same night she was 
seized with fever, accompanied by symptoms of inflam- 
mation in the left side; but recovered after a severe 
illness. So strongly was the vision impressed upon her 
mind, that, even for some time after her recovery, she 
could not pass the door of the room in which it occurred, 
without discovering agitation, — declaring that it was there 
she met with her illness. 

A highly intelligent friend whom I attended, several 
years ago, in a mild but very protracted fever, without 
delirium, had frequent interviews with a spectral visitor, 
who presented the appearance of an old and grey-headed 
man, of a most benignant aspect. His visits were always 
conducted exactly in the same manner : he entered the 
room by a door which was on the left-hand side of the 
bed, passed the end of the bed, and seated himself on a 
chair on the right-hand side : he then fixed his eyes 
upon the patient with an expression of intense inte- 
rest and pity, but never spoke ; continued distinctly 
visible for some seconds, and then seemed to vanish 
into air. His visits were sometimes repeated daily 
for several days, but sometimes he missed a day ; — 
and the appearance continued for several weeks. The 
same gentleman, on another occasion, when in per- 
fect health, sitting in his parlour in the evening, saw 



SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS. 287 

distinctly, in the corner of the room, a female figure 
in a kneeling posture, who continued visible for several 
seconds. 

In a lady, whose case is mentioned in the Edinburgh 
Journal of Science for April, 1830, there was an illusion 
affecting both sight and hearing. She repeatedly heard 
her husband's voice calling to her by name, as if from an 
adjoining room ; and on one occasion saw his figure most 
distinctly standing before the fire in the drawing-room, 
when he had left the house half an hour before. She 
went and sat down within two feet of the figure, supposing 
it to be her husband, and was greatly astonished that he 
did not answer when she spoke to him. The figure con- 
tinued visible for several minutes, then moved towards a 
window at the farther end of the room, and there disap- 
peared. A few days after this appearance, she saw the 
figure of a cat lying on the hearth-rug ; and, on another 
occasion, while adjusting her hair before a mirror, late at 
night, she saw the countenance of a friend, dressed in a 
shroud, reflected from the mirror, as if looking over her 
shoulder. This lady had been, for some time, in bad 
health, being affected with pectoral complaints, and 
much nervous debility. — A remarkable feature of this 
case was the illusion of hearing; and of this I have 
received another example from a medical friend in 
England. A clergyman, aged fifty-six, accustomed to full 
living, was suddenly seized with vomiting, vertigo, and 
ringing in his ears, and continued in rather an alarming 
condition for several days. During this time, he had 
the sound in his ears of tunes most distinctly played, and 
. in accurate succession. This patient had, at the same 
time, a very remarkable condition of vision, such as I 
i have not heard of in any other case. All objects appeared 
to him inverted. This peculiarity continued three days, 
and then ceased gradually, — the objects by degrees 
changing their position, first to the horizontal, and then 
to the erect. 



288 EEASON. 

V. To these sources of spectral illusions, we are to 
add, though not connected with our present subject, 
those which originate in pure misconception ; the ima- 
gination working up into a spectral illusion something 
which is really a very trivial occurrence. Of this class 
is an anecdote mentioned by Dr. Hibbert, of a whole 
ship's company being thrown into the utmost state of 
consternation, by the apparition of a cook who had died 
a few days before. He was distinctly seen walking ahead 
of the ship, with a peculiar gait, by which he was dis- 
tinguished when alive, from having one of his legs shorter 
than the other. On steering the ship toward the object, 
it was found to be a piece of floating wreck. A story 
referable to the same principle is related by Dr. Ferriar : 
— A gentleman travelling in the highlands of Scotland, 
was conducted to a bedroom which was reported to be 
haunted by the spirit of a man who had there com- 
mitted suicide. In the night he awoke under the influ- 
ence of a frightful dream, and found himself sitting up 
in bed with a pistol grasped in his right hand. On 
looking round the room, he now discovered, by the moon- 
light, a corpse dressed in a shroud reared against the 
wall, close by the window ; the features of the body, and 
every part of the funeral apparel being perceived dis- 
tinctly. On recovering from the first impulse of terror, 
so far as to investigate the source of the phantom, it was 
found to be produced by the moonbeams forming a ]ong 
bright image through the broken window. — Two esteemed 
friends of mine, while travelling in the Highlands, had 
occasion to sleep in separate beds in one apartment. One 
of them, having awaked in the night, saw, by the moon- 
light, a skeleton hanging from the head of his friend's 
bed, — eveiy part of it being perceived in the most dis- 
tinct manner. He instantly got up to investigate the 
source of the illusion, and found it to be produced by the 
moonbeams falling upon the drapery of the bed, which 
had been thrown back, in some unusual manner, on 



SPECTEAL ILLUSIONS. 289 

account of the heat of the weather. He returned to bed, 
and soon fell asleep. But haying awaked again some 
time after, the skeleton was still so distinctly before 
him, that he could not sleep without again getting up 
to trace the origin of the phantom. Determined not 
to be disturbed a third time, he now brought down the 
curtain into its usual state, and the skeleton appeared 
no more. 



PART IV. 

APPLICATION OF THE RULES OF PHILOSOPHICAL 
INVESTIGATION TO MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

There has been much difference of opinion among 
philosophers, in regard to the place which medicine is 
entitled to hold among the physical sciences ; for, while 
one has maintained that it " rests upon an eternal basis, 
and has within it the power of rising to perfection," it 
has been distinctly asserted by another, that " almost 
the only resource of medicine is the art of conjecturing." 
" The following apologue," says D'Alembert, " made by 
a physician, a man of wit and of philosophy, represents 
very well the state of that science. ' Nature,' says he, 
' is fighting with the disease ; a blind man armed with a 
club, that is, the physician, comes to settle the difference. 
He first tries to make peace ; when he cannot accomplish 
this, he lifts his club and strikes at random ; if he 
strikes the disease, he kills the disease; if he strikes 
nature, he kills nature.'" ' ; An eminent physician," 
says the same writer, " renouncing a practice which 
he had exercised for thirty years, said, ' I am wearied of 
guessing.'" 

The uncertainty of medicine, which is thus a theme 
both for the philosopher and the humourist, is deeply felt 
by the practical physician in the daily exercise of his 
art. It becomes therefore, an inquiry of the utmost 
importance, — what the sources of this uncertainty are, 
— where that point is in our researches at which its 
influence begins, — and, when we arrive at this point, 
what the means are by which it may be diminished. 



UNCERTAINTY OF MEDICINE. £91 

The perfect uniformity of all the phenomena of nature, 
we have seen to be the foundation of the certainty of 
results in physical science. For, when the order and 
relations of these phenomena have once been ascertained, 
we calculate with confidence that they will continue to 
observe the same order. Proceeding upon this confi- 
dence, in relations which have been observed regarding 
the heavenly bodies, the astronomer foretells their posi- 
tions even at very distant periods. In the same 
manner, the chemist, having ascertained the actions 
which take place when certain substances are brought 
into contact, and the new combinations which follow, 
decides with confidence, that, in every instance in which 
these agents are brought together, the same actions will 
take place, and will be followed by the same combina- 
tions. This confidence, which lies at the foundation of 
all science, we have seen to be an original or instinctive 
principle, and not the result of experience ; but it is 
the province of experience to ascertain the particular 
sequences to which it may be applied ; in other words, to 
distinguish casual relations and sequences from those 
which we are entitled to consider as uniform. 

The uncertainty of medicine resolves itself chiefly 
into an apparent want of that uniformity of phenomena, 
which is so remarkable in other branches of physical 
science. There are, in particular, two departments of 
our inquiries, in which we feel continually the effect of 
this want of uniformity, — the characters and the pro- 
gress of disease, — and the action of external agents 
upon the body. 

Since medicine was first cultivated as a science, a 
leading object of attention has ever been, to ascertain the 
characters or symptoms by which particular internal 
diseases are indicated, and by which they are distin- 
guished from other diseases which resemble them. But, 
with the accumulated experience of ages bearing upon 
this important subject, our extended observation has 
u 2 



292 MEDICAL SCIENCE 

only served to convince us how deficient we are in this 
department, and how often, even in the first step of our 
progress, we are left to conjecture. A writer of high 
eminence has even hazarded the assertion, that those 
persons are most confident in regard to the characters 
of disease, whose knowledge is most limited, and that 
more extended observation generally leads to doubt. 
After showing the uncertainty of the symptoms which 
are usually supposed to indicate effusion in the thorax, 
Morgagni adds the remarkable assertion to which I here 
allude ; — "qui enim plura corpora inspexerunt, hi saltern, 
cum illi nil dubitant, ipsi dubitare didicerunt." If such 
uncertainty hangs over our knowledge of the characters 
of disease, it will not be denied, that at least an equal 
degree of uncertainty attends its progress. We have 
learned, for example, the various modes by which internal 
inflammation terminates, — as resolution, suppuration, 
gangrene, adhesion, and effusion; but in regard to a 
particular case of inflammation which is before us, how 
little notion can we form of what will be its progress, or 
how it will terminate. 

An equal, or even a more remarkable uncertainty 
attends all our researches on the second head to which 
I have referred, — the action of external agents upon the 
body. These engage our attention in two respects, — I 
as causes of disease, and as remedies ; and in both these 
views, the action of them is fraught with the highest 
degree of uncertainty. In regard to the action of exter- 
nal agents as causes of disease, we may take a single 
example in the effects of cold. Of six individuals who 
have been exposed to cold in the same degree, and, so 
far as we can judge, under the same circumstances, one 
may be seized with inflammation of the lungs, one with 
diarrhoea, and one with rheumatism, while three may 
escape without any injur} 7 . Not less remarkable is the 
uncertainty in regard to the action of remedies. One case 
appears to yield with readiness to the remedies that are 



UNCEETAINTY OF MEDICINE. 293 

employed ; on another, which we have every reason to 
believe to be of the same nature, no effect is produced 
in arresting its fatal progress ; while a third, which 
threatened to be equally formidable, appears to cease 
without the operation of any remedy at all. 

With these complicated sources of uncertainty, which 
meet us at every step in our medical inquiries, it is 
almost unnecessary to contrast the perfect uniformity of 
phenomena, on a confidence in which we proceed in other 
departments of science. When we mix together pieces 
of zinc, sulphuric acid, and water we pronounce with 
perfect confidence, that the water will be decomposed, 
hydrogen evolved, the metal oxidated, the oxide dissolved, 
and sulphate of zinc produced ; we pronounce with equal 
confidence on all the properties, mechanical and che- 
mical, of the new compound which is thus to be formed ; 
and in no case have we the smallest doubt of the exact 
occurrence of every step in this complicated process. 
With what different feelings we contemplate, in its com- 
mencement, a case of dangerous internal disease, — 
its probable progress and termination, and the effect 
which our remedies are likely to produce in arresting 
it, — those best can tell who have most experienced 
them. 

The certainty of a science, as was formerly stated, 
depends upon two circumstances; — the facility with 
which we ascertain the true relations and tendencies of 
things, or trace effects to their true causes, and causes 
to their true effects, — and the confidence with which we 
rely on the actions dependent on these relations, conti- 
nuing to occur in all cases with perfect uniformity. This 
confidence we easily attain in those sciences in which 
we have to deal only with inanimate matter. We do so 
by means of experiments, in which, by placing the sub- 
stances in various circumstances towards each other, we 
come to ascertain their true tendencies with perfect 



294 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

certainty, and to separate them from the influence of 
all associations which are only casual and incidental. 
Having thus discovered their tendencies or actions, we 
rely with confidence on these continuing to be uniform ; 
and, should we in any instance be disappointed in the 
action which we wish to produce, we are able to trace the 
cause by which the expected result has been prevented, 
and to obviate the effect of its interference. 

In both these respects we find in medicine a degree of 
uncertainty which marks a striking distinction between 
it and the purely physical sciences. 

I. There is great difficulty, in medicine, in tracing 
effects to their true causes, and causes to their true 
effects. This difficulty has already been illustrated, 
by the same cause appearing to produce in different 
instances different diseases, or no disease at all ; and by 
a disease seeming to subside under the use of a remedy, 
which, in a similar case, fails to produce the smallest 
benefit. When we find our researches thus encumbered 
with uncertainty, we cannot, as in other sciences, clear 
them from the influence of casual relations, by means of 
direct experiment ; but are obliged to trust chiefly to 
the slow course of observation, as the relations happen 
to be presented to us. Hence just conclusions are arrived 
at slowly, and we may be obliged to go on through a 
long course of observations, before we arrive at any results 
which we feel to be worthy of confidence. Hence also 
arises the great temptation to grasp at partial and pre- 
mature conclusions, from which medical science has I 
suffered so much injury. For, when such conclusions 
are brought forward with confidence, as long a course of 
observation may be required for exposing their fallacy, 
as might have been sufficient for ascertaining the truth. 
In this respect, we see the remarkable difference between 
medicine and the purely physical sciences; as, in the 
latter, a single experiment may often be sufficient to 



UNCEKTAINTY OF MEDICINE. 295 

overturn the most plausible hypothesis, or to establish 
one which has been proposed only in conjecture. 

II. Even after we have ascertained the true relations 
and tendencies of things, we are constantly liable to dis- 
appointment in medicine when we endeavour to produce 
certain results by bringing these tendencies into action. 
This arises from the silent operation of a new order of 
causes, by which the phenomena of disease are varied 
and modified : and by which the action of external agents 
is aided, modified, or counteracted, in a manner which 
altogether eludes our researches. The causes which thus 
operate are certain powers in the living body itself, the 
action of which is entirely beyond our controul ; and 
others arising out of the peculiarities of age, sex, tem- 
perament of body and mind, and mental emotions ; con- 
stituting a class of agents of a most powerful kind, of 
which it is impossible to estimate the combined operation. 
It is farther to be kept in view, that these various agents 
may be acting together, or in opposition to each other, 
or under a variety of combinations ; and that, in reference 
to our attempts to act upon the body by remedies, they 
may be operating in concert with, or in opposition to, 
these attempts. Hence arises a most extensive source 
of uncertainty, in all our investigations, of which it is 
impossible to calculate the effect or the extent. Hence 
also arises that apparent want of uniformity in the phe- 
nomena of disease, by which we are so much impeded in 
our researches; and that want of uniformity in the action 
of remedies, by which our efforts in medicine are so 
often disappointed. 

III. Another source of uncertainty in the practical 
art of medicine, is the difficulty which we find in apply- 
ing to new cases the knowledge which we have acquired 
from observation. This application is made upon the 
principle either of experience or analogy. We are said 



296 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

to proceed upon experience, when the circumstances, in 
the new case, are the same as in those cases from which 
our knowledge was derived. When the circumstances 
are not the same, but similar, we proceed upon analogy ; 
and our confidence in the result is weaker than when we 
proceed upon experience. The more numerous the 
points of resemblance are, the greater is our confidence, 
becauses it approaches the more nearly to that which we 
derive from experience; and the fewer the points of 
resemblance are, our confidence is more and more dimi- 
nished. When, in the practice of medicine, we apply to 
new cases the knowledge acquired from others, which we 
believe to have been of the same nature, the difficulties 
are so great, that it is doubtful, whether, in any case, we 
can properly be said to act upon experience, as we do in 
other departments of science. For we have not the 
means of determining with certainty, that the condition 
of the disease, the habit of the patient, and all the cir- 
cumstances which enter into the character of the affection, 
are in any two cases precisely the same : and, if they 
differ in any one particular, we cannot be said to act 
from experience, but only from analogy. The difficulties 
and sources of uncertainty, which meet us at every stage 
of such investigations, are, in fact, so great and so 
numerous, that those who have had the most extensive 
opportunities of observation will be the first to acknow- 
ledge, that our pretended experience must, in general, 
sink into analogy, and even our analogy too often into 
conjecture. 

In a science encumbered with so many difficulties, 
and encompassed by so many sources of error, it is 
obvious what cause we have for proceeding with the 
utmost caution, and for advancing from step to step with 
the greatest circumspection. In attempting a slight 
outline of a subject so extensive and so important, I 
shall confine myself to a few leading rules of a strictly 
practical nature. 



EECEPTION OF FACTS. 



297 



The objects to be kept in view, in all our investigations, 
appear to be the following : — 

I. To acquire an extensive collection of well-authen- 
ticated facts. 

II. To arrange, classify, combine, or separate these 
facts. 

III. To trace, among the facts, sequences or relations, 
particularly the relation of cause and effect. 

IV. From an extensive collection of facts, to deduce 
general facts or general principles. 



SECTION I. 
ON THE ACQUISITION AND EECEPTION OF FACTS. 

The foundation of all knowledge must be a careful 
and extensive acquisition of facts ; and the first duty 
of an inquirer in any department of science is to bind 
himself down to such a patient accumulation, bewaring 
of all premature attempts to combine or generalize them. 

In the acquisition of facts, we depend partly upon our 
own observation, and partly on the testimony of others. 
The former source is necessarily limited in extent, but it 
is that in which we have the greatest confidence ; for, 
in receiving facts on the testimony of others, we require 
to be satisfied, not only of the veracity of the narrators, 
but also of their habits as philosophical observers, and 
of the opportunities which they have had of ascertaining 
the facts. In the degree of evidence which we require 
for new facts, we are also influenced, as was formerly 
stated, by their probability, or their accordance with 
facts previously known to us ; and for facts which appear 



298 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

to us improbable, we require a higher amount of testi- 
mony, than for those in accordance with our previous 
knowledge. This necessary caution, however, while it 
preserves us from credulity, should not, on the other 
hand, be allowed to engender scepticism ; for both these 
extremes are equally unworthy of a mind which devotes 
itself with candour to the discovery of truth. 

In forming a collection of facts, therefore, in reference 
to any investigation, we may state the cautions to be 
observed, and the errors to be guarded against, as chiefly 
referable to the following points : — 

I. Receiving facts on the testimony of persons of 
doubtful veracity, or whom we suspect of having purposes 
to answer by disguising, colouring, or modifying them. 

II. Eeceiving facts on the testimony of persons, of 
whom we have doubts of their opportunities of acquiring 
correct information, or of their powers and habits of 
accurate observation : receiving, for example, important 
statements, on the authority of hasty and superficial 
observers, or of incompetent persons, not professional. 

III. Partial statements of facts, bearing upon one 
view of a subject, or one side of a question, or collected 
in support of a particular doctrine. This, when simply 
stated, will be universally admitted to be an error of the 
first magnitude in every scientific investigation ; and yet, 
I imagine, it would not be difficult, even in very recent 
times, to find some remarkable examples of it. There 
is, indeed, scarcely any doctrine which may not, in the 
hands of an ingenious person, be wrought up, in this 
manner, into a fair system, amply supported by facts ; 
and it is obvious that nothing can be more contrary to the 
rules of sound inquiry. On this ground we may even 
make it a rule, to receive wdth suspicion the statements 
of a writer, when we find him first proposing his doctrine, 



RECEPTION OF FACTS. 299 

and then proceeding to collect, from all quarters, facts in 
support of it. Such a mode of investigation must be 
considered as contrary to the principles of fair induction ; 
for these lead us first to take a full view of the facts, and 
then to trace the principles or doctrines which arise out 
of them. 

IV. Keceiving as facts, on which important conclu- 
sions are to be founded, circumstances which are trivial, 
incidental, or foreign to the subject. For example, in 
the investigation of affections of the spinal cord, appear- 
ances have been often considered as indicative of disease, 
which we have good reason to believe have arisen merely 
from the position of the body after death. In the same 
manner, in the investigation of another class of diseases, 
an important place has been assigned to slight appear- 
ances in the gastro-intestinal membrane, which, we have 
reason to believe, are entirely incidental, and worthy of 
no confidence in a pathological inquiry. 

V. Receiving as facts statements which falsely obtain 
that name. The sources of fallacy to be kept in view 
under this head are chiefly the following : — 

(1.) Receiving as facts statements which are not 
facts but opinions. — A person dies after being affected 
with a certain set of symptoms, and we find, on examina- 
tion after death, the usual appearances of hydrocephalus. 
Another is seized with similar symptoms, and recovers. 
He is therefore said to have recovered from hydrocephalus, 
and such a statement is often given as a medical fact. 
The man's recovery from certain symptoms is a fact; 
that he recovered from hydrocephalus is not a fact, but 
an opinion. 

(2.) Receiving as a fact a statement which only 
assumes the relation of facts. A person recovers from a 
particular disease, while he is using a particular remedy. 
His recovery js ascribed to the effect of the remedy ; 



300 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

and the cure of the disease by this remedy is often given 
as a medical fact. The man's recovery is a fact ; and 
that he used the remedy is another fact ; hut the con- 
nexion of the remedy with his recovery we are not en- 
titled to assume as a fact : — it is tracing between the facts 
the relation of cause and effect, — a process of the utmost 
delicacy, and not to he admitted on any occasion without 
the greatest caution. 

(3.) Receiving as facts general statements, or the 
generalization of facts. One of the most common 
examples of this error occurs, when a statement is given 
of a symptom or set of symptoms as certainly diagnostic 
of any particular disease, or of a particular morbid condi- 
tion of an internal organ. Such a statement we hold to 
be of no value unless we have absolute confidence in the 
narrator, both in regard to his habits as a philosophical 
observer, and to the extent of the observations on which 
his statement is founded. But, with every possible 
advantage in these respects, we are to exercise the utmost 
caution before we receive the relation, thus stated, as a 
factj for it is to be kept in mind, that it is not properly 
a fact, but a generalisation of facts. Some writers, for 
instance, have maintained with much confidence, that a 
particular state of rigidity of some of the limbs is 
distinctly characteristic of ramollissement of the brain. 
But farther observation has shown that the disease may 
exist without this symptom, and that this condition of 
the limbs may appear in connexion with other diseases. 
Their observation of facts was so far correct, that this 
state of limbs does very often accompany ramollissement 
of the brain ; the error consisted in giving it as a general 
fact, or a fact applicable to all cases of ramollissement, 
— which is without foundation. Yet such statements, 
when brought forward with confidence, are often received 
as facts, and rested upon as established principles ; and 
then the facts by which their fallacy might be detected 
are apt to be overlooked or forgotten. 



EECEPTION OF FACTS. 301 

This may perhaps be considered as one of the most 
prevailing errors in the modern science of medicine ; 
and it is indeed astonishing to observe the confidence 
with which such statements are brought forward, and the 
facility with which they are received as equivalent to 
facts, without attention to the manifold sources of fallacy 
with which they are encumbered. Does a writer, for 
example, tell us he has ascertained that the spinal cord 
is diseased in all cases of Tetanus. If we knew that 
such a statement had been founded on the careful ob- 
servation of a hundred cases, it would be of value ; if it 
was deduced from a few, its value is greatly diminished. 
But even if it had been deduced from the larger number, 
certain doubts would still arise in considering the rela- 
tion thus stated as a fact. We should naturally ask our- 
selves, — was the narrator qualified to judge of the facts 
and their relations, — were the cases referred to all really 
cases of Tetanus, — were the appearances in the cord such 
as could properly be considered as indicating disease, — 
or might any of them have been mere changes of colour, 
or other incidental appearances, which might have taken 
place after death, or might have been the effect of the 
convulsion rather than its cause, — or were they such 
changes as may be found in other cases without any 
symptoms of Tetanus? Other sources of fallacy will 
come into view, if the statement be, that the narrator 
has uniformly found a certain remedy of great efficacy in 
a particular disease. Here, in the first place, similar 
questions occur as in the former instance ; — on how many 
cases did he found his statement, — how did he ascertain 
the disease, — and was he qualified to decide that it really 
was a case of the disease which he alleges ? But, sup- 
posing all these questions to be answered in a satisfactory 
manner, others still arise, namely, — had the alleged 
treatment really any influence on the recovery of the 
patients, — did they get well in consequence of the treat- 
ment, or in spite of it, or altogether independently of it, 



302 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

— have not similar cases recovered spontaneously, or 
under modes of treatment entirely different? — Such is 
the uncertainty of causation and generalisation in 
medicine ; and such is the danger of receiving general 
statements as equivalent to facts. 

VI. In forming a collection of facts on which we are 
to found any conclusions, it is always to be kept in mind, 
that fallacy may arise from the absence of important 
facts, as well as from the reception of statements which 
are untrue. Hence the erroneous conclusions that may 
be deduced from statements which are strictly true; 
and hence the fallacious systems that are built up with 
every appearance of plausibility and truth, when facts 
are collected on one side of a question, or in support of 
a particular doctrine. 

In forming a collection of facts, therefore, as the pre- 
liminary step in any inquiry, the following rules ought 
to be kept strictly and constantly in view, before we 
advance to any conclusions : — 

I. That all the facts be fully ascertained, — that those 
collected by ourselves be derived from sufficient observa- 
tion, — and that those which we receive from others be 
received only on the testimony of persons fully qualified 
to judge of their accuracy, and who have had sufficient 
opportunities of acquiring them. 

II. That the statement include a full and fair view of 
all the facts which ought to be taken into the investi- 
gation ; — that none of them be disguised, or modified so 
as to be made to bear upon a particular doctrine : and 
that no essential facts be wanting. 

III. That the statement do not include facts which 
are trivial, incidental, or foreign to the subject. 

IV. That we do not receive as facts, statements which 
are not facts, but opinions or general assumptions. 



COMBINING AND SEPARATING FACTS. 303 

SECTION II. 
OF ARRANGING, COMBINING, AND SEPARATING FACTS. 

The precautions now suggested appear to be those 
■which it is necessary to keep in view, in making a col- 
lection of facts respecting any subject under investigation. 
Our next step is to arrange the facts according to the 
characters in which they agree ; to separate from the 
mass those which appear to be only fortuitous or occasional 
concomitants ; and to place by themselves those which 
we have reason to consider as a uniform and legitimate 
series or sequence. This is the first step towards tracing 
the relations of the facts ; and, in every investigation, it 
is a process of the utmost consequence. In the other 
departments of physical science, this object is accom- 
plished by means of experiments. These are so con- 
trived as to bear distinctly upon particular points ; and, 
by the result of them, we are enabled to separate asso- 
ciations which are incidental from those which are 
uniform ; or, in other words, to ascertain what number 
of the circumstances, which we find associated in a parti- 
cular series, are really connected with the result which 
follows. In medicine, this is a process of greater diffi- 
culty, because we are obliged to trust to the slower 
course of minute and long continued observation. 

The rules to be observed under this head are essential 
to every department of medical inquiry; but, perhaps, 
they are peculiarly important in our observations respect- 
ing the phenomena of disease. By this, we mean such 
an acquaintance with the symptoms which characterise 
particular diseases, and the morbid appearances in the 
cases which are fatal, as shall enable us to trace the 
relation between the symptoms and the nature and seat 
of the disease. A full collection of uniform and essen- 
tial facts on these subjects, cleared, as far as we are 
able, from all incidental combinations, is the only true 



304 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

foundation of medical science ; and every system, however 
ingenious, which rests upon any other, can be nothing 
better than hypothesis and conjecture. It is an essential, 
but difficult part of medical investigation, and one which 
we must conduct with much patience, without allowing 
ourselves to be seduced by theory or system, from the 
path of rigid observation. In prosecuting it, we must be 
cautious in considering our conclusions as perfect, but 
make it our constant study, by farther observation, to 
clear them more and more from every source of error. 

Whatever leads the mind from the importance and 
the difficulty of this investigation is injurious to medical 
science. The error to be chiefly avoided, is a fondness 
for system ; and I must confess my suspicion, that, in this 
respect, a zeal for nosology has been unfavourable to the 
progress of medicine. The nosologist proceeds upon the 
principle, that the characters of disease are, to a certain 
extent, fixed and determined, like the botanical characters 
of a plant, or the chemical properties of a mineral. 
Hence it too frequently happens, that individual cases 
are compared with the system, instead of the system 
being corrected by farther observation. In this manner 
young practitioners are in danger of attempting to ascer- 
tain a disease by its agreement with the nosological 
characters, and are drawn away from that minute atten- 
tion to the phenomena, which alone can lead to correct 
diagnosis. Thus a medical man might argue with regard 
to a case indicating disease in the brain, that there can 
be no effusion, because the pulse has never been below 
the natural standard, or because the pupils are not 
dilated ; or, with regard to an affection of the abdomen, 
that there is no inflammation, because the pulse is strong 
and the bowels open. Nosology, it is true, teaches him, 
that, in hydrocephalus, at a certain period, the pulse 
becomes slow, and the pupils dilated ; and that, in intes- 
tinal inflammation, the pulse is small and the bowels 
obstructed ; but no great extent of observation is required 



TEACING CAUSATION. 305 

to show, that the symptoms now mentioned are not 
uniform or essential to these diseases. Such a confidence 
in system must be equally injurious to the improvement 
of the individual, and to the progress of medical science; 
and the examples now given will be sufficient to illustrate 
the importance of the rule which these observations are 
intended to convey, — separating facts which are occa- 
sional or incidental, from those that are uniform and 
essential. 

On this subject I shall only add the following anecdote, 
which I received from a medical man of very high intel- 
ligence. At an early period of his career as a naval 
surgeon, he was left in charge of a ship on the West 
India station, when several sailors presented themselves 
with an affection of the legs, the nature of which was 
entirely new to him. Having expressed his difficulty to 
one of the officers, not medical, he was promptly told that 
the disease was scurvy, and that, if he examined the 
gums of his patients, he would find sufficient evidence. 
To this he replied, that the thing was impossible, because, 
in the nosology of Dr. Cullen, it is expressly specified, 
that scurvy occurs " in regione frigida." He was, how- 
ever, soon convinced that the disease was really scurvy, 
though it occurred in the West Indies ; and, as he added, 
received a most important lesson, to observe for himself, 
instead of trusting to systems. 



SECTION III. 



ON TEACING AMONG FACTS THE EELATION OF CAUSE 
AND EFFECT. 

Our knowledge of cause and effect, in reference to any 
two particular events, is founded entirely upon the obser- 
vation of a uniform sequence of the events ; or of the 
one following the other in a uniform manner in a great 
number of instances. The greater the number of 
x 



306 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

instances is, in which the sequence has taken place, with 
the greater confidence, as formerly remarked, do we 
expect it to take place again under similar circum- 
stances ; and every single instance in which it does not 
occur, weakens this confidence, unless we can discover 
some adequate cause by which the sequence was inter- 
rupted. The result of this confidence is, that, when we 
observe the first of two such events, we expect the 
second to follow it; and that, when we observe the 
second, we conclude the first has preceded it ; — the first 
we call cause, the second effect. 

In every department of science, it is a step of the 
utmost delicacy to assign to two events this relation ; 
and manifold errors arise from assigning it on inadequate 
grounds, — that is, on an insufficient number of observa- 
tions. In medical science, we have farther to contend 
with peculiar difficulties and sources of error. These 
have been already mentioned as referable to two classes, 
— namely, the difficulty of tracing effects to their true 
causes, and causes to their true effects ; — and the man- 
ner in which the real tendencies of antecedents or causes 
are modified or counteracted by a new series of causes, 
which elude our observation. From these peculiarities 
it often happens, that the true antecedents of important 
events are of an obscure and hidden nature ; while the 
apparent relations would lead us to associate them with 
antecedents more immediately under our view, but whose 
connection with the results is entirely incidental. Other 
obstacles arise from difficulty in ascertaining the facts 
themselves, and in tracing the order of the sequences ; — 
as, in doing so, we are often obliged to trust to obscure 
indications of actions which are going on in internal 
parts, and which are themselves liable to much uncer- 
tainty. Thus a complicated source of difficulty pervades 
the whole subject of medical causation, and makes it one 
of the most delicate topics that can engage the attention 
of the philosophical inquirer. 



TRACING CAUSATION. 307 

There are three particular views, in which, in medical 
investigations, we have occasion to trace among succes- 
sive events the relation of uniform sequence, — namely, 
the effects of external agents as causes of disease, — the 
effects of external agents as remedies, — and the con- 
nection of certain morbid conditions of internal organs, 
with certain symptoms by which these become known to 
us. In regard to all these objects of research, it is 
of importance to keep hi mind the sources of fallacy to 
which we are liable, in assigning to a succession of events 
the relation of uniform sequence, or, in other words, in 
considering the one as the cause of the other. 

I. The connection which we observe may be entirely 
accidental. That causation should be assigned on grounds 
so slight, as to admit of this explanation, may appear 
improbable ; but no person acquainted with the history 
of medicine will find difficulty in pointing out examples 
of it, especially in the effects which are often ascribed to 
remedies on the slightest possible grounds. In this 
manner, by some bold and confident assertion, founded, 
probably, on very limited observation, a remedy is fre- 
quently brought into repute, as nearly infallible in a 
certain class of diseases, which we find, in a very short 
time, consigned to oblivion. 

II. The events may be closely connected, but not as 
cause and effect. They may be effects of a third event, 
which is the cause of both ; or they may be parts in a 
sequence, in which we have still to discover the true 
antecedent. Thus, in the examination of the bodies of 
those who have died of hydrocephalus, the liver has fre- 
quently been found in a state of disease ; and upon this 
ground diseased liver has been stated as one of the causes 
of hydrocephalus. This must be considered as an ex- 
ample of false causation, for in its reference to hydroce- 
phalus, diseased liver cannot be considered in any other 

x2 



308 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

light than as another effect of a common cause, — namely, 
as a result of that unhealthy state of the constitution in 
which hydrocephalus is most apt to occur. When the 
nature of croup was first investigated, the formation of a 
new membrane was observed in the larynx, and this was 
considered as the cause of croup. Farther investigation, 
however, showed that this was but one of a chain of 
sequences, the real antecedent of which is inflammation 
of the membrane lining the larynx. 

III. The events may be really connected as cause aud 
effect, while there is difficulty in assigning to them their 
places in the sequence ; that is, in determining which is 
cause and which is effect. This occurs when, in ascer- 
taining the facts themselves, and the order of their 
sequence, we are obliged to trust to external indications 
of actions which are going on in internal parts. It is a 
difficulty of frequent occurrence ; and want of due atten- 
tion to it appears to have been the source of much falla- 
cious reasoning. In the investigations, for example, 
respecting the nature of continued fever, various morbid 
appearances have been observed in internal organs ; and 
each of these has, in its turn, been confidently assigned 
as the cause of fever. Thus, one has placed the seat 
and cause of fever in the brain ; another in the spinal 
cord ; a third in the gastro-intestinal membrane ; and 
according to one of the latest doctrines, inflammation of 
the mucous follicles of Peyer and Brunner has been con- 
fidently stated as the cause of every modification of fever. 
It does not belong to this part of our inquiry to examine 
minutely the comparative merit of these systems. In all 
of them there is a correct observation of facts, and 
probably a real relation of cause and effect ; the error 
consists in fixing the order of the sequence ; for a very 
slight view of the subject is sufficient to show, that the 
morbid appearances on which they rest must be consi- 
dered as effects, or incidental concomitants of fever, not 



TKACING- CAUSATION. 309 

as its cause. This kind of false causation may also occur 
in other subjects. In certain states of the weather, for 
example, many people are in the habit of saying that a 
shower brings a change of the wind. There is every 
reason to believe that there is between the two events a 
real connection of causation, but the meteorologist rather 
tells us that the change of the wind produces the 
shower. 

IV. When we observe a particular change in the living 
body, and trace an apparent relation between it and some 
external agent which seems to be the immediate ante- 
cedent, it may veiy often happen that other agents are 
concerned which elude our observation ; — though they 
have been the real antecedents or agents in the change 
which has taken place, or have contributed to it in a 
very great degree. This is a principle of most extensive 
application in medical causation, and is one of the chief 
sources of its difficulty and uncertainty. The agents 
referred to are chiefly certain powers in the living body 
itself. These, in all cases, exert a greater or less influ- 
ence in the changes which are the objects of our inquiries, 
and, in many cases, are the sole agents in producing 
results which we falsely and ignorantly ascribe to our 
remedies. When a disease has terminated favourably, 
our treatment may have been proper, and may have co- 
operated with these powers ; — it may have been totally 
inefficient and harmless, and have had no influence what- 
ever in producing the result ; — or it may have been im- 
proper and hurtful, and yet these powers may both have 
thrown off the disease, and have counteracted the effects 
of our blind interference. It is unnecessary to allude, 
also, to the extensive influence, which, in certain classes 
of disease, is produced by passions and affections of the 
mind, often of so delicate a nature, that even the person 
who is the subject of them shall not be aware of their 
influence. 



310 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

The sources of false causation in regard to the action 
of remedies, therefore, may be chiefly referred to the 
following heads : — 

1. The disease being thrown off by the powers of the 
constitution itself, or removed by some circumstances, 
either external or mental, which are not taken into 
account, or perhaps not known ; while the recovery of the 
patient is ascribed to some remedy which he was using 
at the time, but which had no influence whatever in 
producing it. From this source have arisen the many 
instances of inert or trivial remedies acquiring a temporary 
reputation, which have been afterwards entirely neglected, 
or even expunged from the pharmacopoeia. The only 
means of avoiding this error, is by using the utmost 
caution in assigning effects to particular remedies, and 
doing so only after extensive and careful observation. 
On the other hand, we are not entitled to decide, apriori, 
that any particular substance to which certain effects are 
ascribed, is inert or unworthy of attention. Candid and 
careful observation of facts must be our guide in this case, 
as well as in the former. 

This source of false causation is particularly to be kept 
in view*, in regard to those diseases which are greatly 
influenced by adventitious causes, — such as mental 
emotions, or the patient's external circumstances. A 
gentleman, immersed in the business or the pleasures of 
a great city, becomes disordered in his health, dyspeptic, 
and hypochondriacal. He receives much good advice 
from his medical friend, which he professes to follow with 
implicit confidence, and proceeds to do so amidst the 
anxieties of business, bad air, late hours, luxurious dinners, 
and nearly the total want of bodily exercise. Deriving 
no benefit from all that is done for him, he hears of some 
celebrated water, which has acquired great reputation in 
the cure of stomach-complaints, and at length makes up 
his mind to resort thither, though with little hope of 
deriving benefit from anything. He now lays aside 



TRACING CAUSATION. 311 

all business, lives by rule, keeps early hours, and is all 
day long in the open air. He soon recovers excellent 
health, and cordially concurs in spreading the fame of 
the water by which a cure so wonderful has been accom- 
plished. An anecdote has been related of a physician in 
London having advised a dyspeptic patient, who had 
baffled all his remedies, to go down and consult a cele- 
brated physician in Inverness, whose name he gave him. 
On arriving there, he soon discovered that no such person 
was to be found. He then returned to London, some- 
what nettled at the trick which had been practised upon 
him, though he was obliged to acknowledge that he was 
cured of his disorder. 

On this subject we have especially to keep in mind 
the extensive class of diseases which are acted upon, in 
a most powerful manner, by causes entirely mental. 
These are the numerous and ever- varying maladies which 
are included under the terms, dyspeptic, hypochondriacal, 
and nervous. Many of them have their origin in mental 
emotions, which elude observation ; and a very large 
proportion are entirely referable to indolence and inac- 
tion, — to that vacuity of mind attending the unfortunate 
condition in which there is no object in life but to find 
amusement for the passing hour. When, on patients of 
this description, the dexterous empiric produces results 
which the scientific physician had failed to accomplish, 
we r.re too apt to accuse him, in sweeping terms, of prac- 
tising upon their credulity. He, in fact, employs a class 
of remedies of the most powerful kind, to which the 
other, perhaps, attaches too little importance, — namely, 
mental excitement and mental occupation, — the stimulus 
of having something to hope and something to do. 
Examples of this kind must have occurred to every 
practical physician. I have known a young lady, who 
had been confined to bed for months, and had derived no 
benefit from the most careful medical treatment, restored 
to health by the excitement of a marriage taking place 



312 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

in the family. Changes of circumstances, also, or mis- 
fortunes which call for new and unusual exertion, have 
often been known to produce similar results ; and it is a 
matter of old and frequent observation, that diseases of 
the nervous class disappear during periods of public alarm 
and political convulsion. Nor is it only on disorders of 
this nature that remarkable effects are produced by 
mental causes; for mental excitement is known to operate 
in a powerful manner on diseases of a much more tangible 
character. Dr. Gregory was accustomed to relate the 
case of a naval officer, who had been for some time laid 
up in his cabin, and entirely unable to move, from a 
violent attack of gout, when notice was brought to him 
that the vessel was on fire : — in a few minutes he was on 
deck, and the most active man in the ship. Cases of a 
still more astonishing kind are on record. A woman 
mentioned by Diemerbroeck, who had been many years 
paralytic, recovered the use of her limbs when she was 
much terrified during a thunder-storm, and was making 
violent efforts to escape from a chamber in which she had 
been left alone. A man, affected in the same manner, 
recovered as suddenly, when his house was on fire ; and 
another, who had been ill for six years, was restored to 
the use of his paralytic limbs during a violent paroxysm 
of anger. 

2. Referring symptoms to a cause which is altogether 
hypothetical, and then assigning to particular remedies 
the power of removing this cause. To this head we may 
refer the remedies which were at one time supposed to 
expel morbific matter in fever, — those which are believed 
to purify the blood, — to remove congestions at the origin 
of the nerves, — to equalise the circulation, &c. 

3. Mistaking the nature of a disease, and representing 
a remedy as having cured an affection which did not 
exist. There is ground for believing that this error has 
frequently occurred in medical science, and has been the 
source of many statements, in which remarkable effects 



TKACINa CAUSATION. 313 

have been ascribed to particular modes of treatment in 
various formidable diseases. There seems little reason 
to doubt, that, in this manner, hysterical affections have 
sometimes been mistaken for epilepsy or tetanus, — 
abdominal distention for peritonitis, — chronic bronchial 
affections for consumption, — febrile oppression in children 
for hydrocephalus, — irritable urethra or bladder for 
stricture or calculus, — and affections of the bowels for 
diseases of the liver. Many similar examples will occur 
to those who are conversant with the history of medicine. 
The error may occur to the respectable practitioner, from 
misapprehension, arising out of the uncertainty of the 
art ; but it also appears to be one of the great resources 
of the empiric. When we hear, therefore, of marvel- 
lous cures of formidable diseases, our first inquiry ought 
to be, not merely whether the patient recovered, but 
what evidence there is that the alleged disease ever 
existed. 

Such are the difficulties and uncertainties of medical 
causation; and such is the ground for caution in con- 
sidering two events as connected in the manner of cause 
and effect. Among the sources of this difficulty, there 
are several circumstances which are entirely beyond our 
reach, and the influence of which upon our researches 
we cannot hope entirely to overcome ; but, by keeping 
steadily in view the sources of error by which we are 
surrounded, we may avoid any very fallacious conclusions, 
and may make some progress towards the truth. In 
regard to the effects of medicines, in particular, there 
are two opposite errors to be equally avoided : — namely, 
an implicit confidence in the power of particular reme- 
dies, and a total scepticism in regard to the resources of 
medicine. Both these extremes are equally unworthy 
of persons of calm philosophical observation ; and they 
who advance carefully in the middle course, not misled by 
the temptation to hasty conclusions, and cautioned, but 
not discouraged, by the danger of concluding falsely, are 



314 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

most likely to contribute something towards diminishing 
the uncertainty of medicine. 

Before leaving the subject of causation I would briefly 
allude to a confusion which has been introduced into the 
language of medicine, by the division of the causes of 
disease into predisposing, exciting, and proximate. It is 
well known that a cause which appears to produce a dis- 
ease in one instance, will, in another, be followed by no 
result, or by a disease of a different kind. Attempts 
have accordingly been made, to investigate the circum- 
stances which produce a tendency to be affected by par- 
ticular diseases at certain times, — and these have received 
the name of predisposing causes, or sometimes of occa- 
sional causes. The effluvia of marshes, for example, are 
considered as the exciting cause of intermittent fever; 
but the disease is not produced in all who are exposed to 
these effluvia. Various circumstances, such as fatigue 
and intemperance, are said to act as the predisposing or 
occasional causes. But, in other situations, fatigue and 
intemperance were never known to produce intermittent 
fever; and they cannot, therefore, in correct language, 
be said to be connected with the disease in the manner 
of cause. The term proximate cause, again, has been 
applied to minute changes which take place in certain 
functions of the body, so as to constitute particular 
diseases. Such speculations are, in general, in a great 
measure hypothetical ; but, even if they were ascertained 
to be true, these changes must be considered as consti- 
tuting the nature and essence of the disease, and could 
not be regarded in the light of a cause. If these 
observations shall be considered as entitled to any 
weight, it will follow that the term cause ought to be 
restricted to that which has commonly been called the 
exciting cause. 



315 
SECTION IV. 

OF DEDUCING GENERAL FACTS OR GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 

Having, with the cautions which have been referred 
to, collected a body of authentic facts, and having traced 
among these facts the relation of uniform sequence, or 
uniform conjunction, the next step in our investigation 
is to bring together a number of these facts, or classes 
of facts, and to endeavour to deduce from them general 
principles. 

By the process of mind which we call abstraction, we 
separate one property of a substance from its other pro- 
perties, or one fact from a chain of facts, and contemplate 
it apart. When we thus view a number of substances, 
or a number of classes of facts, and separate an individual 
property or individual fact, which is common to them all, 
we may then contemplate this fact or property as charac- 
teristic of the whole class, — and the process Constitutes 
generalising, or deducing a general fact, or general 
principle. 

Generalising is to be distinguished from classification, 
though the mental process concerned in both is essen- 
tially the same. We class together a certain number of 
substances, by a property in which they agree ; and, in 
doing so, we specify and enumerate the individual sub- 
stances included in the class. Thus, we may take a 
number of substances differing widely in their external 
and mechanical properties, some being solid, some fluid, 
and some gaseous, and say, they are all acids. The class 
being thus formed, and consisting of a defined number 
of substances, which agree in the property of acidity, we 
may next investigate some other property which is com- 
mon to all the individuals of the class, and belongs to no 
other, and say, for example, that all acids redden vege- 
table-blues. The former of these operations is properly 
classification, — the latter is generalising in reference to 



316 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

the class. In the former, we take or exclude individual 
substances, according as they possess or not the property 
on which the classification rests ; in performing the 
latter, the property which is assumed must belong to all 
the individuals without a single exception ; or, if it does 
not, it must be abandoned as a general fact or general 
principle in reference to the class. In classifying, we 
may use every freedom regarding individuals, in taking 
or excluding them. In generalising, we must not exclude 
a single individual; for the principle, which does not 
include every one of them, that is, the proposed fact, 
which is not true of all the individuals, is not a general 
fact, and consequently cannot be admitted as a general 
principle. For in physical science, to talk of exceptions 
to a general rule, is only to say, in other words, that the 
rule is not general, and, consequently, is unworthy of 
confidence. If one acid were discovered which does not 
redden vegetable-blues, it would belong to a history of 
these substances to state that a certain number of them 
have this property ; but the property of reddening vege- 
table-blues would require to be abandoned as a general 
fact or general principle, characteristic of the class of 
acids. 

A general law, or general principle, then, is nothing 
more than a general fact ; or a fact which is invariably 
true of all the individual cases to which it professes to 
apply. Deducing such facts is the great object of 
modern science ; and it is by this peculiar character that 
it is distinguished from the ancient science of the schools, 
the constant aim of which was to discover causes. The 
general law of gravitation, for example, is nothing more 
than the general fact, or fact invariably true, that all 
bodies, when left unsupported, fall to the earth. There 
were, at one time, certain apparent exceptions to the 
universality of this law, namely, in some very light 
bodies, which were not observed to fall. But a little 
farther observation showed, that these are prevented 



DEDUCING GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 317 

from falling by being lighter than the atmosphere, and 
that in vacuo they observe the same law as the heaviest 
bodies. The apparent exceptions being thus brought 
under the law, it became general, namely, the fact 
universally true, that all unsupported bodies fall to the 
earth. Now, of the cause of this phenomenon we know 
nothing ; and what we call the general law or general 
principle of gravitation is nothing more than a universal 
fact, or a fact that is true without a single exception. 
But, having ascertained the fact to be invariably and 
universally true, we assume it as a part of the established 
order of nature, and proceed upon it with as much con- 
fidence as if we knew the mysterious agency on which 
the phenomenon depends. The establishment of the 
fact as universal brings us to that point in the inquiry 
which is the limit of our powers and capacities, and it is 
sufficient for the purposes of science. On the same 
principle it is familiar to every one, that extensive dis- 
coveries have been made in regard to the properties and 
laws of heat ; but we do not know what heat is, whether 
a distinct essence, or, as has been supposed by some 
philosophers, a peculiar motion of the minute atoms of 
bodies. 

In the same manner, the person who first observed 
iron attracted by the magnet, observed a fact which was 
to him new and unaccountable. But the same pheno- 
menon having been observed a certain number of times, 
a belief would arise that there existed between it and 
the substances concerned, a connection of cause and 
effect. The result of this belief would be, that, when 
the substances were brought together, the attraction 
would be expected to take place. Observations would 
then probably be made with other substances, and 
farther observations with the same substances ; and it 
being found, that the attraction took place between iron 
and the magnet only, and that between these it took 
place in every instance, the general principle would be 



318 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

deduced, or the fact universally true in all instances, 
that the magnet attracts iron. The same observation 
applies to the other remarkable property derived from 
the magnet, — pointing to the north. The phenomenon 
received the name of magnetism, and the laws were then 
investigated by which it is regulated ; but what we call 
magnetism is still nothing more than a mode of ex 
pressing the universal fact, that the magnet attracts' 
iron, and points to the north. On what hidden influ- 
ence these remarkable phenomena depend, we are still 
nearly as ignorant as the man who first observed them ; 
and, however interesting it would be to know it, the 
knowledge is not necessary to the investigation of the 
laws of magnetism. 

These may, perhaps, be considered as fair examples 
of the inductive philosophy, as distinguished from the 
hypothetical systems of the era which preceded it. 
According to these, the constant aim of the inquirer 
was the explanation of phenomena ; and, in the case 
before us, a theory would have been constructed, calcu- 
lated to account for the attraction by the fluxes or 
refluxes of some invisible fluid or ether, which would 
have been described with as much minuteness as if there 
had been real ground for believing it to exist. Strik- 
ingly opposed to all such speculations, is the leading 
principle of the inductive philosophy, that the last ob- 
ject of science is to " ascertain the universality of a fact." 

" The study of nature," says an eminent writer, " is 
the study of facts, not of causes." In conformity with 
this truth, the objects of science may perhaps be defined 
to be, — to observe facts, — to trace their relations and 
sequences, — and to ascertain the facts which are uni- 
versal. It consists in simply tracing the order which is 
observed by the phenomena of nature ; — the efficient 
causes of these phenomena being considered as beyond 
the reach of the human faculties, and, consequently, 
not the legitimate objects of scientific inquiry. It is 



DEDUCING GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 319 

thus strikingly opposed to the old philosophy, the con- 
stant aim of which was the explanation of phenomena, 
and which has therefore received the name of " the 
philosophy of causes." 

This important distinction between induction and 
hypothetical speculation, which is now so firmly estab- 
lished in other departments of science, it is to be feared 
has not been so fully recognised in medical investiga- 
tions. On the contrary, every one who is acquainted 
with the history of medical doctrines will probably 
admit, that medicine is still deeply tinged with the 
philosophy of causes ; in other words, that there is a 
remarkable tendency to refer phenomena to certain 
obscure principles, which cannot be shown to be facts, 
and consequently cannot be considered as the objects of 
legitimate inquiry. It is unnecessary, in this place, to 
refer more particularly to fictitious and hypothetical 
principles of this description, which, one after another, 
have held a prominent place in medical science. If the 
rules of the inductive philosophy are to be applied to 
medicine, the immediate effect of them must be to banish 
all such speculations as contrary to the first rules of 
sound investigation. They are entirely fictitious prin- 
ciples, framed to correspond with the phenomena, instead 
of being deduced from them. It is also, in general, 
beyond the reach of observation, either to establish or 
overturn them; and the only mode of detecting their 
character, is to bring them to the test of the inquiry, — 
are they facts, and are the facts universal ? 

The rules to be observed in deducing general prin- 
ciples appear therefore to be the following : 

1. That the principle assumed be itself a fact. 

2. That it be true, without a single exception, of all 
the individual cases ; or, in other words, that the fact be 
universal. 

I. The first of these rules is opposed to a practice, 



320 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

lately referred to, which must be admitted to have been 
very prevalent in medical science ; namely, that of 
referring phenomena to fictitious principles which can- 
not be shown to be facts. Of the principles of this 
class, which at various periods have held a prominent 
place in medical doctrine, some have had their day, and 
are now forgotten ; but it may be doubted whether they 
were inferior in value to those which have succeeded 
them. We do not now hear of viscidity of the blood, 
lentor of the fluids, or rigidity of the solids ; of morbific 
matter in the blood, of hot or cold humours, of obstruc- 
tion of the animal spirits, and other doctrines by which 
various phenomena were explained by the inquirers of 
former times ; but, perhaps, those of more recent date 
can scarcely be considered as more satisfactory. It may 
certainly, at least, be a question, whether we can concede 
the character of facts to irregular excitement of the 
nervous system, hepatic derangement, as that term is very 
commonly employed, and the numerous modifications 
under which we meet with the doctrines of determination, 
irritation, congestion, sympathy, and spasm. 

II. The second rule is opposed to the error of hasty 
generalising, or of deducing a general statement from a 
limited number of facts. We can avoid this error, only 
by keeping steadily in view, that general principles 
derive their whole value from being universal facts, — or 
facts that are true Avithout a single exception, in regard 
to all the individual cases to which the principle is meant 
to apply. When they are deduced prematurely, that is, 
from a limited number of facts, or a partial view of their 
minute characters, they fail entirely of the purposes 
which they are meant to serve, and when trusted lead 
us into error. I have formerly alluded to several 
examples of hasty generalising in medical science. 
Some writers have maintained, that a certain state 
of rigidity of the limbs is distinctly characteristic of 



DEDUCING GENERAL PRINCIPLES, 321 

ramollissement of the brain ; and others consider every 
modification of fever as depending upon inflammation of 
the gastro-intestinal membrane. This rigidity of the 
limbs is a frequent occurrence in ramollissement of the 
brain : and, in many cases of fever, there is disease of 
the gastro-intestinal membrane. As a part of the history 
of the affections, therefore, these are important facts ; 
but they are not true of all the cases of ramollissement 
and of fever, and consequently cannot be admitted as 
general principles, in reference to these affections ; — for, 
though they are facts, the facts are not universal. 

In a science such as medicine, indeed, requiring an 
accumulation of facts which must often be the result of 
the labour of ages, partial generalising may sometimes 
be admitted merely as a help to the memory ; provided 
we keep constantly in view the imperfect nature of such 
deductions, and be constantly attentive to correct them 
by farther observations. But, when imperfect results of 
this kind are received as established principles, they 
retard our progress in search of truth, or even lead us 
farther and farther away from it. The confidence is 
truly remarkable with which such premature deductions 
in medicine are brought forward, and the facility with 
which they are often received, without examination, as 
established principles ; : — much laborious investigation 
indeed is often devoted to no other purpose than show- 
ing them to be fallacious. The zeal for hypothetical 
systems is considerably gone by ; but this tendency to 
unsound generalising must be viewed as one of the chief 
errors which at present retard the progress of medical 
science; and it may, perhaps, be contended, that 
medicine will never attain a place among the inductive 
sciences, till inquirers agree to act steadily upon the 
rule, that every medical doctrine shall be a fact, and 
that the fact shall be universal. 

There are two respects in which a fondness for gene- 
ralising in medicine may be abused, and may lead to 

Y 



322 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

errors of a practical nature. The one consists in assuming 
a fact as general, which is not really true of all the 
individual cases ; — various examples of this have been 
already referred to. The other arises from extending a 
fact or principle which is true of one class of cases, to 
others with which it is not connected. Thus, a medical 
man, who decides upon general principles, without 
attending to individual facts, may pronounce a patient 
to labour under consumption, when he perceives expecto- 
ration of a purulent character. Admitting that purulent 
expectoration may occur in all cases of consumption, the 
sound observer knows, that it is not confined to this 
disease, but also occurs in others of a much less dangerous 
character. 

For a legitimate theory, then, it is required, that the 
principle which is assumed be true, and that it be com- 
mon to all the cases. But there are certain instances, 
in which a principle ascertained to be true, in regard to 
one set of cases, may be extended by conjecture to others, 
in regard to which its existence is only hypothetical. 
This may be called legitimate hypothesis, or anticipation 
of principles ; and it differs in this respect from the 
fictitious theories already referred to, that it is liable to 
be either established or overturned by the progress of 
observation. In this manner, the theory of gravitation 
was hypothetically extended to the motions of the hea- 
venly bodies, long before the observations of Newton had 
actually established the truth of the doctrine ; and the 
same principle is of legitimate use in medical investiga- 
tions. Thus, there has been some difference of opinion 
in regard to the origin of the affection which is called 
ramollissement of the brain ; and a conjecture has been 
offered, that it is a result of inflammation in that parti- 
cular structure. Now this, at first, was mere hypothesis 
or conjecture ; but it was hypothesis only in regard to 
the relation of facts, or the application of a known prin- 
ciple. For the principle which is assumed, namely, 



DEDUCING GENERAL PRINCIPLES. 323 

inflammation, is a real and true principle ; its relation 
to this particular affection is the hypothesis. It is such 
an hypothesis, or anticipation of a principle, as serves 
to guide us in observation, and which, by such observa- 
tion, is likely to be soon either established or overturned. 
Hypothesis of this kind is to be considered as a legi- 
timate guide to inquiry, and may be of extensive use 
in medicine, when kept under proper regulation. But 
it is to be regretted that such conjectures, if brought 
forward with confidence, are too often received without 
farther investigation as established principles. In this 
manner, the proper use of them is entirely lost, and 
they rather lead to error and fallacy. 

The laws in regard to such hypotheses, therefore, are, 
that they shall be considered as nothing more than con- 
jecture, until such observations or experiments have been 
made as are sufficient to ascertain their truth ; and that, 
if they are not thus verified, they shall be instantly aban- 
doned. To the process now mentioned, some writers 
have proposed to apply the term theory, as distinct from 
hypothesis ; and to restrict the latter term to the 
fictitious principles formerly mentioned, namely, those 
which cannot be proved to have any real existence. 
Others apply the term hypothesis to both kinds of prin- 
ciples, whether fictitious or legitimate, and call the 
latter a theory, only after its truth has been established. 
But the fact seems to be, that the two terms are used, in 
philosophical writings, in an undefined and indiscriminate 
manner. 

In every scientific investigation, it is to be kept in 
mind, that efficient causes are beyond our reach. The 
objects of our research are physical causes only, by which 
we mean nothing more than the uniform sequences of 
events as ascertained by extensive observation. What 
we call the explanation of phenomena consists in being 
able to trace distinctly all the links of such a chain of 
sequences, so as to perceive their uniform relation to each 
t 2 



324 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

other. Thus, there may be many instances in which we 
are acquainted with facts forming part of such a chain, 
and are satisfied that they are so connected, while we 
cannot explain their connection. This is occasioned by 
the want of some fact which forms an intermediate part 
of the chain, and the discovery of which would enable us 
to see the relation of the whole sequence, or, in common 
language, to explain the phenomena. Such a chain of 
facts was, at one time, presented by the rise of water in 
a vacuum to the height of thirty-two feet. The circum- 
stances were well known, as well as their uniform 
relation, that is to say, the fact of a vacuum, — the fact 
of the water rising, — and the fact of this uniformly taking 
place. But the phenomenon could not be explained ; for 
an intermediate fact was required, to show the manner in 
which these known facts were connected. The doctrine 
of nature abhorring a vacuum afforded no explanation, 
for it furnished no fact ; but the fact required was supplied 
by the discoveries of Torricelli on atmospheric pressure. 
The chain of events was then filled up, or, in common 
language, the phenomenon was accounted for. 

There are, indeed, many cases in which the investiga- 
tion of intermediate events in the chain of sequences is 
beyond our reach. In these, we must be satisfied with 
a knowledge of the facts, and their actual connection, as 
we observe them, without being able to trace the events 
on which the connection depends. This happens in some 
of the great phenomena of nature, such as gravitation and 
magnetism. We know the facts, but we cannot account 
for them ; that is, we are ignorant of certain intermediate 
facts by which those we do know are connected together. 
If, in such cases, we amuse ourselves with visionary 
hypothesis or conjecture, instead of facts, we wander 
from the path of philosophical inquiry. Of this nature 
were the vortices of Des Cartes, and the doctrine of an 
invisible ether, which was at one time proposed to explain 
the phenomena of gravitation. Other examples of the 



LEGITIMATE USE OF HYPOTHESIS. 325 

same kind are to be met with in the old philosophy; and 
those who are acquainted with the history of medicine 
need not be told, that such speculations have also been 
frequent in medical science. 



If we would contribute something towards diminishing 
the uncertainty of medical researches, and introducing a 
greater degree of precision into medical reasonings, there 
are certain rules which we ought to keep steadily in 
view, both in conducting our own inquiries, and in exam- 
ining the investigations of others. These may be briefly 
recapitulated in the following manner, as arising out of 
the preceding observations : — 

I. We should endeavour to have all our terms fully 
and distinctly denned. If we speak, for example, of a 
person being bilious, or labouring under biliary derange- 
ment, or derangement of the chylopoietic viscera, let it 
be explained what particular condition of the biliary or 
digestive organs we mean to express by these terms; or, 
if this cannot be done, let it at least be clearly under- 
stood, what particular symptoms we include under them. 
The same observation applies to various other terms of 
an equally indefinite character, which have been formerly 
mentioned. If they were defined in this manner, they 
would be merely names, and no harm could result from 
the use of them ; but, as they are frequently employed, 
they seem to have no explicit signification. 

II. In making a statement of facts, or examining a 
statement made by another person, we should be satisfied 
that the facts are authentic, — that they are fully and 
fairly stated, — and that no important facts are left out of 
view, disguised, or modified. It is also necessary that no 
facts be taken into the statement, which are not really 



326 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

connected with the subject. I formerly alluded to 
examples of this last error, — appearances being con- 
sidered as indicating diseases of internal organs, which 
are incidental or trivial, perhaps taking place after death, 
or under circumstances not connected with diseased 
action. 

III. When we find two events placed in a state of 
contiguity to each other, we should use the utmost 
caution in considering them as connected in the manner 
of cause and effect. Nothing warrants us in assuming 
this relation, but such an extent of observation as shows 
the connection to be constant and uniform ; and we 
should keep in view the various sources of fallacy, for- 
merly referred to, which encompass the whole subject of 
medical causation. 

IV. In deducing general conclusions, or general doc- 
trines, we must beware, on the one hand, of assuming 
imaginary principles which cannot be proved really to 
exist ; and, on the other, of deducing principles or 
doctrines from a limited number of facts. We must 
remember that such deductions are of no value, unless 
they are invariably true in regard to all the cases to 
which they are meant to refer. 

V. In examining a statement made by any writer, 
there is cause for exercising similar caution. The. credi- 
bility of a narrator of medical statements does not rest 
upon his veracity only, or the total absence of any inten- 
tion to deceive. With perfect sincerity and conviction 
of the truth of what he delivers, he may present fallacious 
statements. This may happen from a partial narration 
of facts, — from unsound causation, — and from delivering 
as equivalent to a fact what is really a general statement. 
In regard to these, we require to be satisfied, not only of 
his veracity, but of his habits as an observer, and the 



SUGGESTIONS FOE MEDICAL INVESTIGATION 327 

extent of the observations on which his statement is 
founded. In all cases of this kind, therefore, we ought 
to exercise such a mental process as the following : — 

1. Are the terms which the author employs fully and 
distinctly denned ; and are they employed in the usual 
and recognised meaning. 

2. Are the facts authentic ; are they fully and fairly 
stated ; do they all relate to the subject ; have we reason 
to suspect, that any important facts have been omitted, 
disguised, or modified, or that facts have been collected 
on one side only of a question; does the statement 
include any points which, though called facts, are merely 
assumptions requiring to be proved. 

3. What events does the author consider as connected 
in the manner of cause and effect ; — have we reason to 
believe that this relation has been assumed upon an 
extent of observation which proved it to be constant and 
uniform : — What does he propose as general principles 
or doctrines ; are these facts ; and are they true in regard 
to all the cases to which he applies them. 

4. What are the new conclusions which he proposes 
to deduce from his whole view of the subject; and are 
these legitimate deductions from such of his premises as 
we admit to be authentic. 

The rules thus shortly proposed, I submit as those 
which ought to guide us in all our inquiries. Without 
constant attention to them, numerous facts may pass 
before us, from which we can derive no real knowledge ; 
and many ingenious and plausible doctrines may be 
presented, which tend only to lead us into error. In 
the same manner, the benefit which a physician derives 
from his own opportunities of observation, in common 
language called his experience, is not in proportion to 
the period of time over which it has extended, or the 
number of facts which have passed under his view. It 



328 MEDICAL SCIENCE. 

must depend on the attention with which he has ob- 
served these facts, and traced their relations to each 
other, — on the anxiety with which he has separated 
incidental relations from those which are uniform, — and 
the caution with which he has ventured on assuming the 
relation of cause and effect, or has advanced to general 
principles. It must depend, farther, on the jealousy 
and suspicion with which he has received even his own 
conclusions, and the care with which he has corrected 
them from time to time by farther observations. 
Finally, it must depend on the judgment with which he 
applies the knowledge thus acquired to the investigation 
and treatment of new cases, — by tracing promptly the 
points of affinity between the case under his view, and 
those cases on which his knowledge was founded; — by 
discovering real points of resemblance where there is 
an apparent difference, and real points of difference 
where there is an apparent resemblance. The farther a 
physician advances in this course of rigid inquiry, he 
becomes more sensible of the difficulties with which his 
science is encumbered, more suspicious of all general 
conclusions, and more anxious to bring them to the test 
of minute and extensive observation ; — in particular, he 
learns to exercise more and more caution in considering 
any one event in medicine as the cause of another. In 
real acquisition, consequently, his progress is slow ; for 
much of his improvement consists in detecting the fallacy 
of systems which he once considered as established, and 
the instability of principles in which he once confided as 
infallible. But these discoveries prepare the way for his 
actual progress, and the conclusions at which he does 
arrive then fall upon his mind with all the authority 
of truth. 



329 



PAET V. 

VIEW OF THE QUALITIES AND ACQUIREMENTS WHICH 
CONSTITUTE A WELL-REGULATED MIND. 

In concluding this outline of facts regarding the intel- 
lectual powers and the investigation of truth, we may 
take a slight review of what those qualities are which 
constitute a well-regulated mind, and which ought to be 
aimed at by those who desire either their own mental 
culture, or that of others who are under their care. The 
more important considerations may be briefly recapitu- 
lated in the following manner : — 

I. The cultivation of a habit of steady and continuous 
attention ; or of properly directing the mind to any sub- 
ject which is before it, so as fully to contemplate its 
elements and relations. This is necessary for the due 
exercise of every other mental process, and is the founda- 
tion of all improvement of character, both intellectual 
and moral. We shall afterwards have occasion to 
remark, how often sophistical opinions and various dis- 
tortions of character may be traced to errors in this first 
act of the mind, or to a misdirection and want of due 
regulation of the attention. There is, indeed, every 
reason to believe, that the diversities in the power of 
judging, in different individuals, are much less than we 
are apt to imagine ; and, that the remarkable differences 
observed in the act of judging, are rather to be ascribed 
to the manner in which the mind is previously directed 
to the facts, on which the judgment is afterwards to be 
exercised. 



330 CHARACTERS OF 

II. Nearly connected with the former, and of equal 
importance, is a careful regulation and control of the 
succession of our thoughts. This remarkable faculty is 
very much under the influence of cultivation, and on the 
power so acquired depends the important habit of regular 
and connected thinking. It is primarily a voluntary 
act ; and, in the exercise of it in different individuals, 
there are the most remarkable differences. In some, 
the thoughts are allowed to wander at large, without any 
regulation, — or are devoted only to frivolous and tran- 
sient objects ; while others habitually exercise over them 
a stern control, — directing them to subjects of real 
importance, and prosecuting these in a regular and con- 
nected manner. This important habit gains strength by 
exercise, and nothing, certainly, has a greater influence 
in giving tone and consistency to the whole character. 
It may not, indeed, be going too far to assert, that our 
condition, in the scale both of moral and intellectual 
beings, is, in a great measure, determined by the 
control which we have acquired over the succession of 
our thoughts, and by the subjects on which they are 
habitually exercised. 

The regulation of the thoughts is, therefore, a high 
concern ; in the man who devotes his attention to it as a 
study of supreme importance, the first great source of 
astonishment will be, the manner in which Ins thoughts 
have been occupied in many an hour and many a day 
that has passed over him. The leading objects to which 
the thoughts may be directed are referable to three 
classes. (1.) The ordinary engagements of life, or 
matters of business, with which every man is occupied in 
one degree or another. — including concerns of domestic 
arrangement, personal comfort, and necessary recrea- 
tion. Each of these deserves a certain degree of atten- 
tion, but this requires to be strictly guided by its real 
and relative importance ; and it is entirely unworthy of 
a sound and regulated mind to have the attention solely 



A "WELL-REGULATED MIND. 331 

or chiefly occupied with matters of personal comfort, or 
of trivial importance calculated merely to afford amuse- 
ment for the passing hour. (2.) Visions of the imagina- 
tion built up by the mind itself when it has nothing 
better to occupy it. The mind cannot be idle, and, 
when it is not occupied by subjects of a useful kind, it 
will find a resource in those which are frivolous or hurt- 
ful, — in mere visions, waking dreams, or fictions, in 
which the mind wanders from scene to scene, unre- 
strained by reason, probability, or truth. No habit can 
be more opposed to a healthy condition of the mental 
powers ; — and none ought to be more carefully guarded 
against by every one who would cultivate the high 
acquirement of a well-regulated mind. (3.) Entirely 
opposed to the latter of these modes, and distinct also 
in a great measure from the former, is the habit of 
following out a connected chain of thought on subjects 
of importance and of truth, whenever the mind is dis- 
engaged from the proper and necessary attention to the 
ordinary transactions of life. The particular subjects to 
which the thoughts are directed, in cultivating this habit, 
will vary in different individuals; but the consideration 
of the relative value of them does not belong to our 
present subject. The purpose of these observations is 
simply to impress the value of that regulation of the 
thoughts, by which they can always find an occupation of 
interest and importance, distinct from the ordinary 
transactions of life, or the mere pursuit of frivolous 
engagements, — and also totally distinct from that 
destructive habit by which the mind is allowed to 
run to waste, amid visions and fictions unworthy of a 
waking man. 

III. The cultivation of an active inquiring state of 
mind, which seeks for information from every source 
that comes within its reach, whether in reading, conver- 
sation, or personal observation. With this state of mental 



332 CHAEACTEES OF 

activity ought to be closely connected attention to the 
authenticity of facts so received, — avoiding the two 
extremes of credulity and scepticism. 

IV. The habit of correct association ; — that is, con- 
necting facts in the mind according to their true relations, 
and to the manner in which they tend to illustrate each 
other. This, as we have formerly seen, is one of the 
principal means of improving the memory, particularly 
the kind of memory which is an essential quality of a 
cultivated mind, namely, that which is founded, not upon 
incidental connections, but on time and important relations. 
Nearly allied to this, is the habit of reflection, or of 
tracing carefully the relations of facts, and the conclusions 
and principles which arise out of them. It is in this 
manner, as was formerly mentioned, that the philosophical 
mind often traces remarkable relations, and deduces 
important conclusions, while, to the common under- 
standing, the facts appear to be very remote or entirely 
unconnected. 

V. A careful selection of the subjects to which the 
mind ought to be directed. These are, in some respects, 
different in different persons, according to their situations 
in life ; — but there are certain objects of attention which 
are peculiarly adapted to each individual, — and there are 
some which are equally interesting to all. In regard to 
the latter, an appropriate degree of attention is the part 
of every wise man ; — in regard to the former, a proper 
selection is the foundation of excellence. One individual 
may waste his powers in that desultory application of 
them, which leads to an imperfect acquaintance with a 
variety of subjects ; while another allows his life to steal 
over him, in listless inactivity, or application to trifling 
pursuits. It is equally melancholy to see high powers 
devoted to unworthy objects, such as the contests of party 
on matters involving no important principle, or the 



A WELL-REGULATED MIND. 333 

subtleties of sophistical controversy. For rising to emi- 
nence in any intellectual pursuit, there is not a rule of 
more essential importance than that of doing one thing 
at a time, — avoiding distracting and desultory occupa- 
tions, — and keeping a leading object habitually before 
the mind, as one in which it can at all times find an 
interesting resource, when leisure from necessary avoca- 
tions allows the thoughts to recur to it. A subject which 
is cultivated in this manner, not by regular periods of 
study merely, but as an habitual object of thought, rises 
up and expands before the mind in a manner which is 
altogether astonishing. £lf, along with this habit, there 
be cultivated the practice of constantly writing such 
views as arise, we perhaps describe that state of mental 
discipline, by which talents of a very moderate order may 
be applied in a conspicuous and useful manner to any 
subject to which they are devoted. \ Such writing need 
not be made at first with any greatattention to method, 
but merely put aside for future consideration ; and, in 
this manner, the different departments of a subject will 
develope and arrange themselves as they advance, in a 
manner equally pleasing and wonderful. — It is related of 
Sir Isaac Newton, that, when he was questioned respecting 
the mental qualities which formed the peculiarity of his 
character, he referred it entirely to the power which he 
had acquired of continuous attention. " When he was 
asked," says Mr.Whewell, "how he made his discoveries, 
he answered, — 'by always thinking about them;' — and, 
at another time, he declared, that ' if he had done any- 
thing, it was due to nothing but industry and patient 
thought : ' — ' I keep the subject of my inquiry constantly 
before me, and wait till the first dawning opens gradually, 
by little and little, into a full and clear light.' "* 

VI. A due regulation and proper control of the Ima- 
gination ; — that is, restricting its range to objects which 

* Whewell's History of the Inductive Sciences, vol. ii. 



334 CHARACTERS OF 

harmonise with truth, and are adapted to the real state 
of things with which the individual is or may be con- 
nected. We have seen how much the character is 
influenced by this exercise of the mind ; — that it may be 
turned to purposes of the greatest moment, both in the 
pursuits of science, and in the cultivation of benevolence 
and virtue ; — but that, on the other hand, it may be so 
employed as to debase both the moral and intellectual 
character. 

VII. The cultivation of calm and correct Judgment, — 
applicable alike to the formation of opinions and the 
regulation of conduct. This is founded, as we have seen, 
upon the habit of directing the attention, distinctly and 
steadily, to all the facts and considerations bearing upon 
a subject; — and it consists in contemplating them in 
their true relations, — and assigning to each the degree of 
importance of which it is worthy. This mental habit 
tends to guard us against forming conclusions, either with 
listless inattention to the views by which we ought to be 
influenced, or with attention directed to some of these, 
while we neglect others of equal or greater importance. 
It is therefore opposed to the influence of prejudice and 
passion, — to the formation of sophistical opinions, — to 
party spirit, — and to every propensity which leads to the 
adoption of principles on any other ground than calm and 
candid examination, guided by sincere desire to discover 
the truth. In the purely physical sciences, distorted 
opinions are seldom met with, or make little impression, 
— because they are brought to the test of experiment, 
and thus their fallacy is exposed. But it is otherwise in 
those departments which do not admit of this remedy. 
Sophisms and partial inductions are, accordingly, met 
with in medicine, political economy, and metaphysics ; 
and too often in the still higher subjects of morals 
and religion. In the economy of the human mind, 
it is indeed impossible to observe a more remarkable 



A WELL-REGULATED MTND. 335 

phenomenon, than the manner in which a man, who, in 
the ordinary affairs of life, shows the general characters of 
a sound understanding, can thus resign himself to the 
influence of an opinion founded upon partial examination. 
He brings ingeniously to the support of his dogma every 
fact and argument that can possibly be turned to its 
defence ; and explains away or overlooks everything that 
tends to a different conclusion ; while he appears anxious 
to convince others, and really seems to have persuaded 
himself, that he is engaged in an honest investigation of 
truth. This propensity gains strength by indulgence, 
and the mind which has yielded to its influence advances 
from one pretended discovery to another, — mistaking its 
own fancies for the sound conclusions of the understand- 
ing, until it either settles down into some monstrous 
sophism, or perhaps concludes by doubting of everything. 
The manner in which the most extravagant opinions 
are maintained, by persons who give way to this abuse of 
their powers of reasoning, is scarcely more remarkable 
than the facility with which they often find zealous pro- 
selytes. It is indeed difficult to trace the principles by 
which various individuals are influenced, in thus surren- 
dering their assent, with little examination, — often on 
subjects of the highest importance. In some, it would 
appear to arise from the mere pleasure of mental excite- 
ment ; in others, from the love of singularity, and the 
desire of appearing wiser than their neighbours ; while, 
in not a few, the will evidently takes the lead in the 
mental process, — and opinions are seized upon with 
avidity, and embraced as truth, which recommend them- 
selves to previously existing inclinations of the heart. 
But, whatever may be the explanation, the influence of 
the principle is most extensive ; and sentiments of the 
most opposite kinds may often be traced to the facility 
with which the human mind receives opinions which have 
been presented to it by some extrinsic influence. This 
influence may be of various kinds. It may be the power 



336 CHARACTERS OF 

of party, — or the persuasion of a plausible and persevering 
individual: — it may be the supposed infallibility o# a 
particular system ; — it may be the mere empire of fashion, 
— or the pretensions of a false philosophy. The parti- 
cular result, also, may differ, according as one or other 
of these causes may be in operation. But the intellectual 
condition is the same ; and the distortion of character 
which arises out of it, whether bigotry, superstition, or 
scepticism, may be traced to a similar process ; — namely, 
to an influence which directs the mind upon some other 
principle than a candid investigation of truth. t In a 
similar manner, we may perhaps account for the fac, — 
that the lowest superstition, and the most daring scepti- 
cism, frequently pass into each other ; and that the most 
remarkable examples of both are often met with in the 
same situations, namely, those in which the human mind 
is restrained from free and candid inquiry. On the other 
hand, it would appear, that the universal toleration, and 
full liberty of conscience, which characterise a free and 
enlightened country, are calculated to preserve from the 
two extremes of superstition and scepticism. In other 
situations it is striking to remark, how often those, who 
revolt from the errors of a false faith, seek refuge in 
infidelity. 

The mental qualities which have been referred to in 
the preceding observations, constituting an active, atten- 
tive, and reflecting mind, should be carefully cultivated 
by all who desire their own mental improvement. The 
man who has cultivated them with adequate care, habitu- 
ally exercises a process of mind which is equally a source 
of improvement and of refined enjoyment. Does a sub- 
ject occur to him, either in conversation or reflection, in 
which he feels that his knowledge is deficient, he com- 
mences, without delay, an eager pursuit of the necessary 
information. In prosecuting any inquiry, whether by 
reading or observation, his attention is acutely alive to 



A WELL-EEGULATED MIND. 837 

the authenticity of facts, — the validity of arguments, — 
the accuracy of processes of investigation, — principles 
which are illustrated by the facts, — and conclusions 
deduced from them, — the character of observers, — the 
style of writers ; — and thus, all the circumstances which 
come before him, are made acutely and individually the 
objects of attention and reflection. Such a man acquires 
a confidence in his own powers and resources, to which 
those are strangers who have not cultivated this kind of 
mental discipline. The intellectual condition arising out 
of it is applicable alike to every situation in which a man 
car. je placed, — whether the affairs of ordinary life,— 
the pursuits of science, — or those higher inquiries and 
relations which concern him as a moral being. 

In the affairs of ordinary life, this mental habit con- 
stitutes what we call an intelligent reflecting man, whose 
attention is alive to all that is passing before him, — 
who thinks acutely and eagerly on his own conduct and 
that of others, — and is constantly deriving useful infor- 
mation and subjects of reflection, from occurrences, 
which, by the listless mind, are passed by and forgotten. 
This habit is not necessarily connected with acquired 
knowledge, or with what is commonly called intellectual 
cultivation ; but is often met with, in a high degree, in 
persons whose direct attainments are of a very limited 
kind. It is the foundation of caution and prudence in 
the affairs of life, and may perhaps be considered as the 
basis of that quality, of more value to its possessor than 
any of the sciences, which is commonly called sound good 
sense. It is the origin, also, of what we call presence 
of mind, — or a readiness in adapting resources to circum- 
stances. A man of this character, in whatever emergency 
he happens to be placed, forms a prompt, clear, and 
defined judgment of the conduct or expedient which the 
situation requires, and acts with promptitude upon his 
decision. In both these respects, he differs equally from 
the listless inactivity of one description of men, and the 



338 CHARACTERS OF 

rash, hasty, and inconsiderate conduct of another. He 
differs not less from characters of a third class, who, 
though they may be correct in their judgment of what 
ought to be done, arrive at their decision, or act upon it, 
too slowly for the circumstances, and consequently are 
said, according to a common proverb, to be wise behind 
time. The listless and torpid character, indeed, may 
occasionally be excited by emergencies, to a degree of 
mental activity which is not natural to him ; and this is, 
in many instances, the source of a readiness of concep- 
tion, and a promptitude in action, which the individual 
does not exhibit in ordinary circumstances. 

In the pursuits of science these mental qualities con- 
stitute observing and inventive genius, — two conditions 
of mind which lie at the foundation of all philosophical 
eminence. By Observing Genius, I mean that habit of 
mind by which the philosopher not only acquires truths 
relating to any subject, but arranges and generalises them 
in such a manner, as to show how they yield conclusions 
which escape the mere collector of facts. He likewise 
analyses phenomena, and thus traces important relations 
among facts, which to the common mind appear very 
remote and dissimilar. I have formerly illustrated this, 
by the manner in which Newton traced a relation between 
the fall of an apple from a tree, and those great principles 
which regulate the movements of the heavenly bodies. — 
By Inventive Genius, again, I mean that active, inquiring 
state of mind, which not only deduces, in this manner, 
principles from facts when they are before it, but which, 
grasping after principles by eager anticipation, makes its 
own conjectures the guides to observation and experi- 
ment. This habit of mind is peculiarly adapted to the 
experimental sciences ; and in these, indeed, it may be 
considered as the source of the most important discoveries. 
It leads a man not only to observe and connect the facts, 
but to go in search of them, and to draw them, as it 
were, out of that concealment in which they escape the 



A WELL-EEGULATED MTKD. 339 

ordinary observer. In doing so, lie takes for his guides 
certain conjectures or assumptions which have arisen out 
of his own intense contemplation of the subject; and 
then commences a course of experiments or observations 
calculated to ascertain their truth. By these, his con- 
jectures may be found as often false as true ; but, if 
found false, they are instantly abandoned ; and, by such 
a course of active inquiry, he at length arrives at the 
development of truth. From him are to be expected 
discoveries which elude the observation, not of the vul- 
gar alone, but even of the philosopher, who, without 
cultivating this habit of invention, is satisfied with tracing 
the relation of facts as they happen to be brought before 
him by the slower course of testimony, or occasional 
observation. The man, on the other hand, who only 
, amuses himself with conjectures, and rests satisfied in 
them without proof, is the mere visionary or speculatist, 
who injures every subject to which his speculations are 
directed. 

In the concerns which relate to man as a moral being, 
this active, inquiring, and reflecting habit of mind is not 
less applicable than in matters of inferior moment. 
The man who cultivates it directs his attention intensely 
and eagerly to the great truths which belong to his moral 
condition, — seeks to estimate distinctly his relation to 
them, and to feel their influence upon his moral prin- 
ciples. This constitutes the distinction between the 
individual who merely professes a particular creed, and 
him who examines it till he makes it a matter of under- 
standing and conviction, and then takes its principles as 
the rule of his emotions and the guide of his conduct. 
Such a man also contemplates, in the same manner, his 
relations to other men ; — questions himself rigidly 
regarding the duties which belong to his situation, and 
his own observance of them. He contemplates others 
with a kind of personal interest, — enters into their wants 
and feelings, and participates in their distresses. In all 



340 CHARACTERS OF 

his relations, whether of justice, benevolence, or friend- 
ship, he acts, not from mere incidental impulse, but upon 
clear and steady principles. In this course of action, 
many may go along with him when the requirements of 
the individual case are pointed out and impressed upon 
them ; but that in which the mass of mankind are want- 
ing, is the state of mental activity, which eagerly con- 
templates its various duties and relations, and thus finds 
its way to the line of conduct appropriate to the import- 
ance of each of them. 

VIII. For a well-regulated understanding, and parti- 
cularly for the application of it to inquiries of the 
highest import, there is indispensably necessary a sound 
condition of the moral feelings. This important subject 
belongs properly to another department of mental science ; 
but we have seen its extensive influence on the due 
exercise of the intellectual powers : — and it is impossible 
to lose sight of the place which it holds in the general 
harmony of the mental functions, required for constituting 
that condition, of greater value than any earthly good, 
which is strictly to be called a well-regulated mind. 
This high attainment consists not in any cultivation, 
however great, of the intellectual powers, but requires 
also a corresponding and harmonious culture of the 
benevolent affections and moral feelings ; — a due regula- 
tion of the passions, emotions, and desires ; — and a full 
recognisance of the supreme authority of conscience over 
the whole intellectual and moral system. Cold and 
contracted, indeed, is that view of man which regards 
his understanding alone; and barren is that system, 
however wide its range, which rests in the mere attain- 
ment of truth. The highest state of man consists in his 
purity as a moral being ; and in the habitual culture and 
full operation of those principles by which he looks forth 
to other scenes and other times. Among these are 
desires and longings, which nought in earthly science 



A WELL-EEGULATED MIND. 341 

can satisfy ; -which soar beyond the sphere of sensible 
things, and find no object worthy of their capacities, 
until, in humble adoration, they rest in the contemplation 
of God. Truths then burst upon the mind, which seem 
to rise before it in a progressive series, each presenting 
characters of new and mightier import. The most 
aspiring understanding, awed by the view, feels the 
inadequacy of its utmost powers ; yet the mind of the 
humble inquirer gains strength as it advances. There is 
now felt, in a peculiar manner, the influence of that 
healthy condition of the moral feelings, which leads a 
man not to be afraid of the truth. For, on this subject, 
we are never to lose sight of the remarkable principle of 
our nature, formerly referred to, by which a man comes 
to reason himself into the belief of what he wishes to be 
true,- — and shuts his mind against, or even arrives at an 
actual disbelief of, truths which he fears to encounter. 
It is striking also to remark, how closely the philosophy 
of human nature harmonises with the declarations of the 
sacred writings ; — where this condition of mind is traced 
to its true source in the corruption of the moral feelings, 
and is likewise shown to involve a high degree of guilt in 
that rejection of truth which is its natural consequence ; 
— "This is the condemnation, that light is come into 
the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, 
because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth 
evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light lest his 
deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth, 
cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest 
that they are wrought in God." 

This condition of mind presents a subject of intense 
interest, to every one who would study his own mental 
condition, either as an intellectual or a moral being. In 
each individual instance, it may be traced to a particular 
course of thought and of conduct, by which the mind 
went gradually more and more astray from truth and 
from virtue. In this progress, each single step was felt 



342 CHAEACTEKS OF 

to be a voluntary act ; but the influence of the whole, 
after a certain period, is to distort the judgment, and 
deaden the moral feelings on the great questions of truth 
and rectitude. Of this remarkable phenomenon in the 
economy of man, the explanation is beyond the reach of 
our faculties ; but the facts are unquestionable, and the 
practical lesson to be derived from them is of deep and 
serious import. The first volition, by which the mind 
consciously wanders from truth, or the moral feelings go 
astray from virtue, may impart a morbid influence which 
shall perpetuate itself and gain strength in future volitions, 
until the result shall be to poison the whole intellectual 
and moral system. Thus in the wondrous scheme of 
sequences which has been established in the economy of 
the human heart, one volition may impart a character 
to the future man, — the first downward step may be 
fatal. 

Every candid observer of human nature must feel this 
statement to be consistent with truth ; and by a simple 
aiid legitimate step of reasoning, a principle of the 
greatest interest seems to arise out of it. When this 
loss of harmony among the mental faculties has attained 
a certain degree, we do not perceive any power in the 
mind itself, capable of correcting the disorder which has 
been introduced into the moral system. Either, there- 
fore, the evil is irremediable and hopeless, or we must 
look for an influence from without the mind, which may 
afford an adequate remedy. We are thus led to discover 
the adaptation and the probability of the provisions of 
the Christian revelation, where an influence is indeed 
disclosed to us, capable of restoring the harmony which 
has been destroyed, and of raising man anew to the 
sound and healthy condition of a moral being. We 
cannot perceive any improbability, that the Being, who 
framed the wondrous fabric, may thus hold intercourse 
with it, and provide a remedy for its moral disorders ; 
and thus a statement, such as human reason never could 



J 



A WELL-EEGULATED MIND. 343 

have anticipated, comes to us invested with every 
element of credibility and of truth. 

The sound exercise of the understanding, therefore, 
is closely connected with the important habit of looking 
within ; or of rigidly investigating our intellectual and 
moral condition. This leads us to inquire what opinions 
we have formed, and upon what grounds we have formed 
them: — what have been our leading pursuits, — whether 
these have been guided by a sound consideration of their 
real value, — or whether important objects of attention 
have been lightly passed over, or entirely neglected. It 
leads us farther to contemplate our moral condition, — 
our desires, attachments, and antipathies ; — the govern- 
ment of the imagination, and the regimen of the heart ; 
— what is the habitual current of our thoughts ; — and 
whether we exercise over them that control which 
indicates alike intellectual vigour and moral purity. It 
leads us to review our conduct, with its principles and 
motives, and to compare the whole with the great 
standards of truth and rectitude. This investigation is 
the part of every wise man. Without it, an individual 
may make the greatest attainments in science, may 
learn to measure the earth and to trace the course of 
the stars, while he is entirely wanting in that higher 
department, — the knowledge of himself. 

On these important subjects, I would more particularly 
address myself to that interesting class, for whom this 
work is chiefly intended, the younger members of the 
medical profession. The considerations which have been 
submitted to them, while they appear to cany the autho- 
rity of truth, are applicable, at once, to their scientific 
investigations, and to those great inquiries, equally 
interesting to men of every degree, which relate to the 
principles of moral and religious belief. On these sub- 
jects, a sound condition of mind will lead tbem to think 
and judge for themselves, with a care and seriousness 
adapted to the solemn import of the inquiry, and without 



344 CHARACTERS OF A WELL-REGULATED MIND. 

being influenced by the dogmas of those who, with little 
examination, presume to decide with confidence on 
matters of eternal moment. Of the modifications of 
that distortion of character which has commonly received 
the name of cant, the cant of hypocrisy has been said to 
be the worst ; but there is another which may fairly be 
placed by its side, and that is the cant of infidelity, — the 
affectation of scoffing at sacred things, by men who have 
never examined the subject, or never with an attention 
in any degree adequate to its momentous importance. 
A well-regulated mind must at once perceive that this is 
alike unworthy of sound sense and sound philosophy. If 
we require the authority of names, we need only to be 
reminded, that truths which received the cordial assent 
of Boyle and Newton, of Haller and Boerhaave, are at 
least deserving of grave and deliberate examination. 
But we may dismiss such an appeal as this ; for, nothing 
more is wanted to challenge the utmost seriousness of 
every candid inquirer, than the solemn nature of the 
inquiry itself. The medical observer, in an especial 
manner, has facts at all times before him, which are in 
the highest degree calculated to fix his deep and serious 
attention. In the structure and economy of the human 
body, he has proofs, such as no other branch of natural 
science can furnish, of the power and wisdom of the 
Eternal One. Let him resign his mind to the influence 
of these proofs, and learn to rise, in humble adoration, to 
the Almighty Being of whom they witness : and familiar 
as he is with human suffering and death, let him learn 
to estimate the value of those truths which have power 
to heal the broken heart, and to cheer the bed of death 
with the prospect of immortality. 



LONDON: BBADBUBY AND EVANS, TBINTEBS, WH1TEFRIABS. 



